


Improbable Holiday Meet-cute

by selftaughthuman



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, F/F, Introspection, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 65,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27902383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selftaughthuman/pseuds/selftaughthuman
Summary: A modern AU holiday story. A stereotypical holiday movie type scenario, in this case, a car breakdown on Christmas Eve leads to another series of improbable situations, the end result of which is Asami and Korra meet one another and eventually happy up their ever after.
Relationships: Bolin/Opal (Avatar), Korra/Asami Sato, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Suyin Beifong/Kuvira, past Iroh II/Asami Sato
Kudos: 248





	1. A Jewnicorn at the Sky Bison Lodge

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed, so please excuse any errors. Some references to or insertion of show/comic dialogue throughout.

Today was not a good day. In her ranking of unfortunate 24-hour periods, it would certainly make the top ten, arguably the top five. Sighing heavily, she pulled her coat tight around her body, annoyed at herself for choosing it. The jacket wasn’t nearly warm enough for this weather, nor was the dress she had on beneath. Wet salted snow which clung in clumps to soles and mudflaps alike, it was in the process of destroying her boots. She really should be waiting in the SUV with the heat on, but the weather outside better matched her mood.

It was over. Four years gone. It would've been within reason for her to be out of sorts, beside herself, even inconsolable…but she was barely upset at all. Iroh was arguably ideal as a man: smart, handsome, accomplished, willing to call her out if needed, and good-natured. He had his faults, but so did she. They were cautiously optimistic on the long drive here, that the fire between them hadn't died completely, held hands on the straightaways…but it wasn't to be. Sitting with his entire family at dinner last night, passing sides and laughing at his father's jokes…it should’ve felt right. It didn’t though and she knew he knew too. They’d shared the softest, saddest smile when he brought her a Manhattan with two cherries and sat beside her, hand on her leg, his thick fingers curling lightly around her kneecap. They sat there smiling and chatting with his well-to-do family, marinating in the knowledge they’d fallen out of love for good. No amount of dates, no number of pleasurable tumbles in the bedroom, no finally joining his family for the holidays had rekindled their romance. They talked for hours that night, sitting up in bed, the space between them a metaphor. He told her he’d fly back himself three days from then, that he'd say something came up for her at work if she wanted to leave tonight. Iroh would advance the timeline, tell his parents they broke up in a few weeks, cite their jobs as a reason. It was the tidiest breakup she’d ever had, and any heartache was as much for each other as themselves...for having to start over, for what they wished they were to one another. They spent quite a bit of time that evening devising a strategic plan to deal with the breakup, which she supposed was rather telling in and of itself. There were a few tears and much more practicality. He’d helped her pack the next day, held her, kissed her forehead…and the anticlimactic nature of their parting, lent a dreamlike quality to her departure.

Driving away from that house this afternoon, not house…a luxury mountain mansion the family rented in some bucolic part of Montana, she was a mess of emotions, the most prominent of which was relief. It was the sort of relief she’d only felt when able to successfully negotiate herself out of a business deal that just felt wrong…nothing glaring, nothing obvious, nothing harmful to the company, nothing but a faintly tolling bell in the back of her mind. It was only an hour and forty minutes before the first sign of trouble started. The transmission was slipping, she knew it by feel immediately and a sense of dread washed over her. Her heart sunk when not a minute later the entire machine proved itself useless. Asami swore a total of five times, resting knuckles against her lips and sighing. She hated this car but would never subject the undercarriage of her more beloved coupe to the conditions here. The next fifteen minutes were spent holding her phone skyward and circling the slickened road like an idiot in a ritualized coaxing of cellular signal from the ether. The fourth towing company she managed to connect with picked up and she explained her situation, the man agreeing to come out and appreciation blanketed her nerves. She wouldn’t have to call Iroh to come to get her…wouldn’t have to lie to his family again upon her return. 

Now here she was, waiting in the gathering snow, broken up with her somehow not wonderful enough Navy boyfriend who was currently making excuses for her absence on Christmas Eve to the rest of his extended family as they arrived. She bid goodbye to his parents this morning. She’d even dressed up to add to the illusion that work was dragging her away, her clothes a suggestion that she might have to roll right into her office on Christmas Day directly off the half-day drive. It was probably what she’d do, but the _'have to'_ was a falsehood. 

As the snow began to taper to dusting, she opened the door of her car and sat sideways in the driver’s seat. She glanced down darkening stretches of road in both directions for a tow truck. There was nothing surrounding her but empty ranchland. Guilt seized her up as she waited for the young man she’d spoken to on the phone. Apparently, it was not enough to throw a wrench in Iroh’s life. She had to drag some poor, though very cheerful sounding gentleman with a tow truck into this Christmas Eve disaster. It sucked up that relief inside her, the breath of fresh starts, and inverted it. She was waiting, she realized, not only for a truck but for that elusive _‘what have I done’_ moment she anticipated would hit soon. It came as a surprise that it had yet to wash over her, even with the dying of her car.

Conflicts were there, but they were of a different ilk. Beyond that dissipating relief, she felt sad and slightly wary for this predicament's effect on others; others she felt indebted to. The breakup going as well as it did was a blessing really. It could have been so much worse. Iroh could've been angry, hurtful, resentful...but he was none of those things. The man was as he'd always been, completely reasonable. Asami knew she was immensely fortunate to even find a tow truck driver tonight as well, especially in such a barren place and on a holiday. Lastly, there was the fact that if she was honest, deep down she knew that she and Iroh had been breaking up for months now…since the start of his last deployment. That it didn't wound either of them profoundly was likely due to the amount of time they both were aware of the looming end. It was only a finalizing of something that had already felt inevitable. Beyond the unexpected gratitude and things owed, she could admit to a level of exhaustion. It was mostly with the idea of romance, with looking for what she thought she should have with a partner. Asami was a decisive person, generally. Where in other aspects of her life, she knew exactly what she wanted, what fit for her, or at a minimum what was needed; relationship-wise it was much more difficult to find something that clicked. Amongst the snow and cows and horses she assumed were out there hiding from the chill, she sank into introspection on why love of any kind was elusive, where so many other things came easily. The thought made her laugh at herself, at the drama. It was probably only the loneliness she tended to feel this time of year exacerbating her melancholy.

The brights and rumble of a truck in the distance were salvation and distraction. They made her lift her eyes. Asami watched its approach, hoping it would be the tow rather than some other soul driving these roads alone on Christmas Eve. As she stared at the distant headlights, she vowed that next year she would revert to holing herself up at home. She’d sleep and work the holidays away, as she’d done every Christmas since she was eighteen. It was a safe option and it worked for her. She shouldn’t have messed with a sure thing.

An old white truck chugged up, emblazoned with the words _‘Bender Brother’s Towing’_. It passed by her before backing up toward her stranded SUV. A smiley guy in a fur-lined trapper hat, flaps sticking straight out, waved at her as he leaned out of the driver’s side window to eye the distance.

Once parked, he hopped down in massive tan boots, trotting over. Surprisingly light on his feet for such a sturdy-looking man, he extended a mittened hand her way. “Hey there! You Asami??”

It was impossible not to return his friendly grin. “Yes, hi! Thanks for coming all the way out here! I’m sorry to drag you out and interrupt your holiday.” She started apologetically.

“Nah.” He flipped a mitten in the snowy air. “Don’t even worry about it!”

“I’m lucky you were even open,” She continued, pulling up the collar of her wool coat against the cold and shutting the door of her car.

“Well.” Shrugging, he pulled off his mitts and walked over to the tow apparatus. “Being Jewish helps with the holiday hours situation.” His laugh was jovial and helped with the awkwardness she felt. He let his coat fall further open, standing proudly. Beneath was a royal blue knit sweater, patterned with a rather majestic looking unicorn rearing amid a sea of stars of David, against the backdrop of a gradated blue rainbow. The word _‘JEWNICORN’_ in gold was stitched above it. “Got an ugly sweater thing after this. My girlfriend picked this out.”

She chuckled behind her hand. “Very nice.”

“I’m Bolin by the way!” He gave her another big smile, rubbing his neck beneath the bottom of the hat, a furry flap resting on his arm. “Man, car trouble on Christmas Eve! Hope you’re not gonna miss anything too important!”

“Nothing as exciting as an ugly sweater party.” Asami eyed the black SUV, cursing her choice to take it rather than flying. It had just been so long since she’d had a good lengthy drive. “I was just heading home and then the transmission went.”

Where she half-expected some dismissive comment about her assessment, she only got his fists on his hips and a frown. “Damn, huh? That’s no good.” They stood together staring at the lifeless vehicle for a moment before he slapped his covered hands together in a muted clap. “Let’s hitch it up and we’ll take it to the garage. Closest one is mine and my brother’s…if you’re okay with that?” She nodded. “Why don’t you hop in the passenger side? Get warm.” He suggested, grabbing the hook. “Hey and don’t mind Pabu, okay? He’s harmless.”

“Pabu?” She paused, with her gloved hand resting on the handle on the passenger side door.

“He’s just my pet ferret.” The young man said, securing everything and starting the winch. “Don’t worry! He’s in his carrier right now.” He shouted over the noise, with hands cupped over his mouth. 

“Oh…that’s fine.” Yelling back, she climbed into the old truck, the heat hitting her immediately as shook her head. Christmas music filtered in from the radio. _A ferret?_ She wondered aloud. 

As she settled herself onto the worn leather of the truck’s cab, a squeaking chirp caught her attention. Beside her was a soft pet carrier. Inside a reddish-brown creature yawned, baring sharp teeth. He then curled his long body into a tight circle, gazing briefly up at her with beady black eyes. Curious, she placed a gentled finger by the mesh part, smiling to herself when the creature stood on hind legs to sniff her, cocking its head.

Right, an amendment to her situation was in order. She was stuck in Montana, sitting in a tow truck with a ferret, waiting for a man in a jewnicorn sweater. All of that and she and Iroh were no more, when this time last year she was certain she’d settle into marrying him by the Summer. That certainly was a miscalculation and this night was getting more and more surreal by the minute. 

Bolin threw open the door shortly after the piano opening from _‘All I Want for Christmas is You’_ started. Against her will, her mind began supplying lyrics and she tried to force them away. He threw himself into the truck and smiled at her again, cheeks pink from the winter air. “So, where to? Can I give you a lift home or something?”

She gazed out the window briefly, eyes scanning the nothingness before she joked. “Not unless you feel like driving to Seattle.”

Resting a hand on his chin, he pretended to think on it. “Mmhmm Mmhmm, sounds fun, but I’m gonna have to pass on that. You were really gonna drive all the way to Seattle tonight?!”

“Last minute change of plans.” She lied, slipping off her gloves as the blowing air from the vents penetrated them. Puffing out his cheeks, he nodded to himself, seeming to understand that something must’ve happened.

“How long is that trip, like twelve hours?” The guess was pretty spot on.

“Not with how I drive.” It was delivered with partially self-deprecating playfulness because Asami had an addiction to speeding she’d never quite been able to curtail. She had a knack, or more accurately her face had a knack, for getting out of tickets which irritated Iroh to no end. It was one of the few things they'd ever argued over. “You don’t have to take me anywhere, Bolin. I can call a cab or something from the garage.”

He tossed his mittens on top of Pabu’s cage, who chirped unhappily. “Nope. No way speedy! It’s Christmas! Hmm. We’ll think about this on the way to the garage, yeah?” Without any better option, and thankful for the kindness, she agreed. Checking his mirrors, he pulled out onto the empty roads. “Okay, okay…soooo…we need a plan B for you. Can I take you to a hotel or something? They’re probably full though, better call some places first?”

She really had no idea where she was, let alone the name of any towns in the surrounding area or how she’d get back and forth to his garage after. This was such a mess. “You wouldn’t happen to know of anywhere near your shop, would you?”

His mouth quirked as his neck craned forward and he appeared to be debating something internally. “Hmm…call me crazy, but I feel like the elves are trying to tell me something right now. That’s how Christmas magic works right?! It’s elf powered?”

Laughing uneasily, she arched a brow at him. “I’m not totally sure.”

“Well anyway, what I’m trying to say is I don’t do stuff like this usually, but my holiday senses are tingling.” A hundred scenarios marched through her head as he continued with this new confusing turn in conversation. “My friend sorta kinda works at this little lodge-y Bed and Breakfast place. It’s right near the garage. Lemme call her. They usually reserve it for family during the holidays, but maybe she can squeeze you if you don’t mind tight quarters and a bunch of people?!”

“Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?” This man really seemed a kind soul and this might be taking advantage.

“Nah. No way.” When he tugged his hat off, she kept in her smile at his curly black hair which was sticking out at every conceivable angle. There was something very disarming about him, a natural boyish charm. She liked him immediately on a human level. "I'll call her."

“That would be amazing, actually.” She commented softly.

“Hey, grab the wheel a minute?” 

“What?!” Thinking she couldn’t possibly have heard him correctly, she merely stared…only jumping into action when he lifted both hands, patting down his jacket. “Okay!!” Asami flung herself over to grab the steering wheel, keeping the truck going straight, fighting the shock of it.

Oblivious, he continued rummaging through his pockets, searching for his phone while she hunched over the ferret carrier. Finding the device finally, he lifted it triumphantly. He made the call, squishing the phone to his ear with his shoulder and took control of the car back. “Oops! Sorry! Got it!” 

Asami gaped at him as she retracted her hands, expelled the remnant surprise breathily and to herself. The faint sound of ringing was audible through the phone as he waited, nodding to the music, and drumming his fingers. She heard a muffled female voice pick up on the other end after the third ring. 

“Hey Kor…whanoooo! No way!! Come on, don’t start without me!! I’m on way back now…way way before that, twenty minutes tops…no, just a breakdown. You got stuff for margaritas? Senna and me are gonna have some…good, good…hey, so you got any rooms?...mmhmm… no, I know, I know, but she’s from Seattle…it’s completely dead…uh…I’m not supposed to guess that stuff! I…fine, I dunno, same as us?...no, hey I’m a gentleman…I’m not, don’t say that to Opal, come on…yeah, yeah okay.” She was puzzled by the exchange, by the appraising look he sent her way. “No, do you want me to ask her that?…does she have to agree?...alright, alright!! No, I know it’s a favor…who’s better than you?!”

She heard the dial tone after the incomprehensible single side of a conversation…and he struggled with the phone, trying to aim it with his face so it would fall onto the seat before she decided to risk it.

“Here. Um, let me help you.” She reached up, grabbed the device, and hit the 'end' button, before placing it face down beside him. 

“Haha, thanks! Looks like they’ve got space for a stranded Christmas refugee!” His excited eyes sparkled with a sense of accomplishment and she felt the gentleness in her face. Perhaps today would fall out of the top ten worst, yet. “Told ya. The big guy’s looking out for you!”

“No more elves? We’re onto a higher power now?” She teased, embracing the fact she’d taken an instant liking to this man.

“I was talking about Santa!!”

Rolling her eyes congenially, she responded with earnestness. “Thank you so much for this. I appreciate it.”

“Aw, no problem!” There was guilt on his face though and then he exhaled with a whistle. “There’s only one catch.” 

“Okay,” Asami said carefully. 

He stole a glance over at her. “You’re gonna be walking into that ugly sweater thing and you’re invited now. If you don’t have a sweater, one can be provided and uh…there’s gonna be some loud karaoke, so…now would be your time to back out. You could get a taxi to the garage from town. Totally okay.” The words were blown through quickly, almost on top of each other and...why not? With everything that had happened tonight, why not? It seemed like destiny was giving her a hard shove toward spontaneity.

“And miss my opportunity for my first ever Ugly Christmas Sweater Karaoke Party?” She questioned, sending him a wink she hoped wouldn’t read as overly flirtatious.

A deep rumbly chuckle echoed in the cab. “Technically it’s Ugly Christmukkah Sweater Karaoke Party.”

“Even better.”

The rest of the drive to the garage was uneventful, filled with idle small talk while she tried not to overthink the unlikely progression of events. They pulled into a small garage, which looked remarkably like every other small-town automotive shop she’d ever seen. Her eyes drifted to the sign on the front door of the darkened storefront… _‘Bender Brother’s Repair and Body’_. She wondered if she’d be able to convince Bolin and his brother to let her do the work on the vehicle herself. Tomorrow she would definitely need to call her assistant and start rescheduling things.

“This is it!” He announced proudly. “My brother does most of the work himself. I’m just the pretty face.” 

She laughed. “Of course.”

“So, why don’t you grab your stuff and walk across the street? I gotta get your car down and park the truck. My friend, Korra should be at the desk.” He suggested, jumping out of the driver’s side door.

“Ok. Where am I headed?” She hopped down from the cab herself, eyes searching and easily falling to log-cabin-style lodge across the way, strung with an impressive amount of white lights. They lined the porch and icicle versions hung from the eaves. Each individual conifer out front was strung in an intricate lattice. It was beautiful in a Christmas-y sort of way. “Never mind! I think I found it.”

“Sure did, which is amazing ‘cause it’s so understated!” Bolin kidded as he helped her with her two large bags and then went about his business.

The rollers were rendered useless too quickly by snow as she dragged them across the road. Sighing, she hauled the weighty roller bags with as much strength as she could muster up to the stairs of the lodge. It was her own fault they were so heavy. She was a chronic over-packer. Eying the staircase to the front door dubiously, she noticed each step glistening menacingly, sporadically coated with ice. Getting the bags up would be smarter and slightly less likely to result in a spinal fracture if done in two trips, she decided.

“Hey.” The voice startled her, but nowhere near as much as the image of a woman with a stern face and a gleaming ax on her shoulder. She had no idea where this person had come from. Instinctually, her posture tightened, tensed, self-defense classes clawing to the front of her mind. “You’re clearly struggling. I can take one of those.” The woman added, looking pointedly at her shoes and bags.

Her silence earned the lifting of a heavy brow, as the ax was rested against a nearby retaining wall. A stare that was somehow both impassive and expectant was as distracting as the prominent beauty mark standing below the woman’s right eye. This person was dressed almost exactly as she imagined a female lumberjack would be. The woman seemed to grow irritated with her lack of response. “If you’d like to fumble through on your own, suit yourself, Princess. I can head back to the woodshed.”

Her glare was strong and immediate. It was difficult not to clap back but it seemed unwise, given that these people had agreed to put her up. In any case, she dearly hoped this was not Bolin’s friend. “I’m fine, thank you.”

The woman regarded her with open skepticism. “Relax.” Oh, she hated that almost as much as the _'princess'_. “Let me take one.”

“Kuvira!!” The young tow truck driver hollered from the street as he ran over to them, sliding a little on the wet road with arms wild and a ferret perched atop his shoulder like a living scarf. “I see you met Asami, our Christmas refugee!!” Bolin threw his arms toward her, presenting. “Asami, this is Kuvira. She’s our friend and resident blacksmith. She made her own ax and everything. Girl’s got a way with metal.”

“It looks very skillfully done.” Her compliment was honest, as she eyed the tool. The fact that it was given begrudgingly, well-hidden.

There was a definite narrowing of dark green eyes. They reminded her very much a cat who has no time or inclination for people. “I wonder what makes you say that? The balance could be off, the edge could be dull, or the grip uncomfortable. You wouldn’t know.” The words were a needless challenge and she could not discern what the purpose was in saying them. “Are you planning to help her with the bags, Bolin?”

“I can handle my bags on my own,” Asami interjected. “And it feels like a safe assumption that if any of those concerns you listed were accurate, that splitting ax wouldn’t be in the possession of a blacksmith.” It was a small victory in her mind that she even knew splitting axes were for wood chopping, a stroke of luck that the dour girl had mentioned a woodshed. The shift of a jaw told her the retort landed and scratched. 

“She’s got a point there, Kuvira!” Bolin laughed, nudging the stiff woman in the ribs, waggling his brows and likely helping nothing. Asami sent him a small smile, still unsure about her choice to verbally retaliate, given she was a guest here. Still, she could not let that business with the ax simply stand…and the _‘Princess’_ designation was still hot beneath her skin. “And yeah, I’m definitely gonna help her!”

“Then I’m done here.” The woman snatched her ax and turned on heel like a soldier, marching rigidly but unhurriedly off in the snow.

“Wait, hey!” When Kuvira turned, her long braid slapped against her back. Asami couldn’t help but notice even her hair seemed angular. “Is _‘Dreidel Champ’_ in the shed with you? You guys need help with the wood after?”

With straight lips and that same flat tone, the woman answered quickly. “Yes, Mako is and no we don’t. Check in with Korra. She may need some help with the food.” There was the tiniest smirk, as the woman watched her. “Pleasure, Asami.”

“Likewise.” She answered quietly, unsure what to make of the interaction. 

“Kuvira’s a little intense, but she’s okay once you get to know her!” Bolin defended with lips drawn back from his teeth in an awkward smile. “Promise everyone else is a bit more friendly.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just grateful to have a place to stay.” She reassured, concerned she over-stepped, but not quite remorseful. Together they hauled her bags up the icy steps, catching each other not once but two separate times, miraculously managing not to kill themselves. Both of them were panting slightly when they reached the top, basking in the anxious excitement over an accomplishment that felt unduly monumental. Her gaze lifted to the carved wooden sign above the entrance. _‘Sky Bison Lodge’_ , it seemed in keeping with the landscape. A ‘NO VACANCY’ sign swung crookedly on two eyehooks below, an aggressively pointy icicle throwing it off-balance.

“Bo! Is that you?? Be careful!! I need to salt the steps! They’re like a skating rink right now.” She heard a voice yell from inside as the door opened a crack. “WOAH! Naga!” A huge white dog bounded out, running at her. “No! Sit.”

And as sure as she’d been that she was about to be pounced on, the dog obediently followed orders. The animal’s giant head hovered right below her chest, huge pink tongue jogging in a pant, chocolate brown eyes excited. It was fully possible this dog was part polar bear she decided. She’d never seen a pup quite so large and she reached a hand out tentatively, received a gentle nuzzle that pulled a smile from her. Asami’s eyes lifted at the sound of the front door shutting and then they locked on those of the newest addition to the porch. 

She was frozen by the most arresting eyes she’d ever seen in her life. A slow, unsure grin broke across the woman’s pretty face and apparently, staring speechless at people was her new thing tonight.

“Hey! You must be the Christmas refugee!” A hand was thrust in her direction for a firm handshake, which she returned. “I’m Korra!”

“Sorry, Korr! This is Asami!" He tossed out. "Aw such a good girl, Naga! Yes, you are!” Bolin kneeled beside the dog, hugging and praising and cooing, while he ruffled it about the neck. She was shocked when the ferret hopped from his shoulders to scale the furry mountain in front of him.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay here, I really appreciate it! I hope I’m not putting anyone out.” It was then her eyes fell to the woman’s sweater hoodie, a winter scene with the body of a reindeer prominently featured, its neck ending at the collar, such that Korra’s head replaced the animal’s. She smiled to herself, registering the antler headband atop Korra’s head moments later. “I’m loving the antlers…and the sweater. Very cute.”

“Thanks! I...uh...don’t usually wear stuff like this, which is obvious I guess, that it's a holiday thing…I’m gonna stop rambling.” A gentle rosiness took the woman’s cheeks. Asami couldn’t ever recall having made another woman blush like that before, even accidentally. “Lemme get you set up. Bo? Can you salt the steps for me before someone dies? Or you know what? Make Meelo do it! He bailed on Jinora and me for the shoveling.”

“Nah! I got it.” He brushed the suggestion off, while she wondered how many people were actually here in this lodge.

Korra grabbed one of her bags before she could protest. “Pabu! Naga, come!” Obediently the animals trotted in behind them, their size difference a sight to behold. As they walked in, her eyes traced over the exposed rafters and honey-hued wood which gave everything a rustic sort of charm. Wrought iron railings and light fixtures added to the effect and she pondered whether those might be the work of the unfriendly blacksmith. In any case, it was a beautiful building. She caught the swishing tail of the Great Pyrenees as the dog disappeared around the corner, ferret in tow. The two pets settling in front of a crackling fireplace in the adjacent room. 

“So, it was Asami, right?” She nodded. “What brings you all the way out here from Seattle? It’s kind of a weird place to end up.” Korra remarked as she jumped over the reception desk, bending atop it fully, sneakered feet in the air, as nimble fingers snagged a clipboard from the back wall.

Her eyes involuntarily fell to the woman’s rather adorable backside where it stuck up in the air as she reached. Snapping her gaze away, she blinked wild-eyed at the wide floor planks, scandalized by herself. She did not glance up until the clap of Korra’s feet hitting the ground told her it was safe to do so. 

The woman stretched her arms behind her head, pulling keys from her pocket, clipboard dangling in a risen grip. “Man! That had to be the wettest snow I’ve ever shoveled.” It was difficult to tell if it was rhetorical or thoughts spoken aloud, or Asami was intended to respond. 

She smiled sympathetically nonetheless, still not quite sure how to explain herself or what brought her here, the truth feeling awkward to reveal. She felt her eyebrows drawing together as she tried to find an appropriately polite response to the question. After another minute, Korra crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter, bemused. “I gotta say, this whole dead silent thing you’re doing right now is making it hard to believe you’re not secretly a mass murderer or something. Horror movies sometimes start this way, you know?”

She was leveled by a flash of humiliation at the legitimate giggle she released in response. There was a growing flutter in her chest which had first developed on the porch and showed no signs of disappearing. 

“No homicidal tendencies to speak of, I promise." She answered, unwilling to let the idea she was a murderer go unaddressed. She opted for honesty, seeing no better way out of the awkwardness she already made. "I...actually came here with my boyfriend. His family rented a place up in the mountains. Cliché as it may be, we broke up last night and I was passing through on my drive back home.”

As her heart continued its erratic thumping, Asami wondered if she was reaching some sort of saturation point, tipping over some scale of mental processing ability. This could logically be some protracted dream and she’d wake up soon next to Iroh on Christmas morning. She would come out of sleep an hour or so before him, as per usual, and gaze at his gently snoring form, wondering why they were still together and why they couldn’t stay in love despite the compatibility of their respective lifestyles. And on second thought, this was preferable even if it was a dream.

She was sent a compassionate glance from the counter, as lips quirked. It made a lot more sense to her that this person was Bolin’s friend, given how congenial that phone conversation sounded. “Wow, sorry. And then your car broke down too? That sucks.”

It did in some ways, but this was the most adventure she’d had in longer than she could remember. “It’s ok, really. Strangely okay.”

“Well, it’s good you’re not all broken up about it, right? Probably a sign.” Korra stiffened then. “Which I have _no_ business saying. I have a habit of shoving my foot in my mouth. Sorry. Can I just grab your name and number?” She pushed the clipboard toward her. “We can figure out the whole check-in thing later.”

There was an embarrassed little grin on the woman’s face, that evoked a desire to comfort at the same time it provoked an inexplicable shyness within her. She took the clipboard which had nothing more than a blank sheet of computer paper on it. She jotted down the asked for information and laid the clipboard on the counter. “You’re fine. Do you...need my credit card or something?” 

The girl shrugged. “Maybe at some point.” 

It was a baffling answer and before she could question any further, Korra grabbed a suitcase once again before Asami could protest. The girl hauled it easily, holding it by the handle and charging up the stairs beyond the desk. It was an impressive show of strength. Lifting her other bag, she followed not quite as speedily under the weight. She was by no means weak, but Korra was unusually strong for her size.

“Your family must be bummed you’re stuck here.” The remark was thrown over a shoulder.

As she dragged the bag upstairs, she considered her answer to another potentially uncomfortable subject. Deciding that since she’d set out on the path of uncomfortable honesty already, she might as well continue in that direction. It was more advisable that trying to keep some cover story straight all evening.

“I don’t have much in the way of family, really.” She said unconcernedly.

Korra took a right at the top of the flight, shaking her head at herself and glancing sidelong at her as though she didn’t know how to react. “Annnd there I go a second time. I’m on a real roll here. Alright, no more backstory questions and you can let me mix you an apology cocktail later?”

“Are you a bartender?” She questioned as they paused at a large wooden door with a live wood slab hanging from it. There was a relief carved into it of a polar bear on an ice flow. It was gorgeous and highly detailed…little touches everywhere.

Slipping the key in, the woman pushed the door open with her hip. “Kind of. I dabble. Helpful to have multiple skills out here.” And that slightly crooked grin was sent her way again.

“I can imagine.” The more the better, she would assume. “Hmm, I wonder what other skills you've amassed? Besides innkeeping of course.”

Korra shrugged. “Oh, no. I’m not the innkeeper. I don’t even work here. I’m a friend of the family, I mean I used to work here, but not anymore. Just helping now. We all hang out at this place for the holidays.” It seemed everyone was chipping in at the lodge, shoveling and salting and woodchopping, and it was heartwarming really. She was curious though who the proprietors actually were. “And about the skills…whatever anyone will teach me. If I can do it with my hands, I’m in. Guess you could say I’m…' _handy’_.” A second later, the girl groaned and rubbed at her forehead. “God, I’m an idiot. Ignore that please.”

Asami laughed quietly, happy to find it wasn’t some ridiculous giggle this time. “Mm. And what if I liked it too much to ignore?” And the inflection in her voice, what was that about? Was she teasing this woman? There was a very strong chance the barrage of newness was starting to get to her. 

Scoffing, the embarrassed woman pushed the roller bags to the corner of the room, eying her. “Keep my dad joke then. All yours. I’ll just be over here forgetting that ever happened.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to move those. I’ve got it.” Asami stood, carefully taking over moving the luggage cases and then sat casually atop the larger of the two bags, crossing her legs at the ankle. Suddenly, she wished she were wearing pants so she could adopt a more comfortable pose. 

As she sat there, she found herself unable to help taking the other woman in. That absolutely flawlessness skin, its darker shade made those beautiful eyes practically leap from her face. It kept drawing her attention. She was sure she’d never seen another person who looked quite like Korra. Blue eyes were not uncommon, but the purest she’d seen before were always so much lighter. These though, they were something closer to teal, not blue with a hint of green around the pupil…a solid blue-teal which danced with warmth and liveliness, and now she was thinking far too in-depth and poetically about them. The strength of her desire to outright stare…she felt a fool and it bordered on inappropriate she thought. All of that led to a single inevitable conclusion. Asami was attracted to this woman…the sudden _‘glimpse across a room, can’t look away’_ type of attraction. She wasn’t totally certain how to feel about that, given her situation. Luckily, attraction was something she was confident she could mostly ignore, especially given the inopportune timing of it. 

“I don’t know if Bolin mentioned the whole ugly sweater karaoke thing…” Korra queried with a note of caution in her voice and the words thankfully shattered her wandering thoughts.

“He did.” Asami acknowledged. It was not much of a worry to her if she needed to do a song or two, she could carry a tune well enough. “He might’ve even mentioned the possibility of borrowing a sweater.”

“I got some extras and you should come down, join us! It’ll be a mess but in the best way possible, you know? But you totally don’t have to.”

She gave a full smile, tapping the plastic luggage case with the back of her heel. “Something different sounds perfect tonight, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, you ended up in the right place then!” Korra said with an animated eyeroll. “We’ve got pretty much all the different ‘round these parts.” The woman walked over to the bed, grabbing a stack of folded clothing. “Some ghosts of Christmas sweaters past. Top one is a little rough.”

Tilting her head, she sent the woman a bit of a smirk. She was aware of how far jokes on Christmas sweaters could go…and she only hoped for something less than lewd. “How bad can it be?”

“Just tell me if they’re too much.” Glancing over at Asami, the other woman scanned her outfit, before handing off the stack. “Here. We’re jeans people, so you don’t have to be fancy or anything.”

Taking the stack, she rested it on the other case beside her. Lifting the first sweater, she took it by the shoulders. Asami let it unfurl, eyes widening as she read it. Against the navy knit was looping cursive script that read _‘Single and Ready to Jingle’_. “Oh, wow.”

“Yup. And the hat.” She was tossed a deep red Santa hat. Observing her with a hint of anxiousness, Korra shifted on her feet. “Look I can switch with you if you don’t like any of those. I haven’t been wearing this one that long. I know all this probably seems a little crazy, hanging with complete strangers…but it’ll be fun?” The woman gave an exaggerated shrug, shoulders by her ears. “Hopefully? Maybe? Probably?"

“Out of the three, I'd go with ‘probably’. You did offer me a drink after all.” She said around a breathy chuckle before she folded the garment on her lap. “As for the sweater, it’s accurate as of last night. I’ll give it that.”

Korra crossed her arms, face registering guarded amusement. “Really? You ready to jingle?”

“I guess that depends on who’s doing the jingling,” She retorted, immediately regretting the reemergence of that strangely flirtatious, completely out-of-place lilt in her voice.

There was a distinct possibility if she continued, she might creep this woman out accidentally. That was of course if she hadn’t already. Asami narrowly resisted the urge to wrap an arm around her torso, feeling as though she’d suddenly exhausted her social battery. With another touch of pink on Korra's cheeks, eyes were averted briefly toward the furry rug at the foot of the bed, before the girl puffed out a snicker.

“Always does, right?” That was certainly the truth. “Well, I’m sure you’ve had more than enough of me for now. I’ll leave you alone for a bit. Party starts in like half an hour.” The woman murmured, headed toward the door.

She found herself searching for something to say, puzzled by her own stalling, by the voice in the back of her mind suggesting that she ask to talk more as if it were a remotely sane thing to do. Her suspected madness was quite possibly resultant of a lingering worry that she had actually made the other woman uncomfortable. Or perhaps it was the fact that she hadn’t had anyone slide so easily past her ever-present loneliness the way Korra and Bolin were, as though she knew them already. It could also be that so much of her interactions held a political uncurrent, negotiations, ulterior motives, sizing up, strategizing, planning…unemotional rationality vital for good outcomes. Interacting with two people who exuded imperfect realness from the get-go was refreshing. And she was thinking entirely too much again. 

“Hey, Korra?” She said a little desperately. 

Pausing in the doorway with felt antlers bobbing, the girl rested a hand on the doorknob. “Yoooo!” The girl answered, the word dragged out in a protracted sing-song drawl. Asami couldn’t quite hold in her stupefaction and it descended Korra into another series of humiliated micro-expressions. The girl coughed into her fist. “Sorry, I didn’t think that would sound as weird as it did. What’s up?”

“Thank you,” She pushed out with a smile and all the sincerity she felt, wanting to alleviate the other woman’s needless embarrassment. “For being so welcoming. It’s very sweet of you.” The expression of her gratitude, even repeated, still stuck as thoroughly inadequate. Hastily, she decided to amend her statement, lest it sound too personal and further the awkwardness she’d potentially caused three times over now. “You and Bolin both. You two have been so gracious.”

Those blue eyes studied her for a minute. “It’s nothing. Seriously.” The woman said softly. “I put some clean towels on the corner of the bed when Bolin called in case you need a shower or anything. See you downstairs when you get settled, ok?”

She nodded as Korra left, feeling an odd hollowness when alone in the room. Resolving to banish it, Asami stood to flip her suitcase on the floor. Unzipping the oversized bag, she dug through for the single pair of jeans she’d brought with her and something to wear beneath the sweater. Washing her face, brushing her teeth, and reapplying her makeup was as much to distract herself as to prepare. Saving the sweaters for last, she finally relented and dug through them, settling on the last of the pile. It was a maroon turtleneck with a small robot wearing a Santa hat, eyes, and antennae aglow. Beneath his mechanical body, the words _‘Let’s Get Lit’_ was scripted in a font reminiscent of the numbers on a digital clock. Out of the three options, she liked it the best. With an amused sigh, she shrugged it on over her black camisole. She stared at herself by way of the bathroom mirror. Adjusting the fall of the fabric, her eyes traced over the little robot with his giant green eyes _._ Pulling on the Santa hat she was given, she fixed her hair beneath it and exhaled, shaking her head at her reflection.

This night just kept getting more and more interesting.

Not a scene from the story, but what I imagine a cast Christmas card would look like. I'm not a super-competent artist on computers. Jewnicorn and reindeer sweaters are unoriginal, but it was fun to sketch out nonetheless. Also Happy holidays to anyone reading this! 


	2. A Standard Small-Stakes Ugly Sweater Christmukkah Karaoke Competition

Korra was leaning against the reception desk, gawking at the ceiling and listening to the padding of feet above her. Their group had accumulated new persons prior, but this was the most outlandish way it occurred thus far. Their ragtag band was half the family she had and half the family she’d made; a mishmash of people…the Jewish brothers, the vegetarian Buddhist lodge owners, her parents who flew in, and Kuvira who was an indescribable combination of contrarian qualities. Christmas together was less about the holiday and more about the gathering. Tonight though, Bolin just happened to pick up a drop-dead gorgeous woman stranded alone on Christmas Eve. That same drop-dead gorgeous woman was presently upstairs in Korra’s former bedroom donning a dumb Christmas sweater for the sole purpose of joining their thoroughly dorky annual Christmukkah Karaoke Jam. She was most assuredly going to make an ass of herself in front of an attractive stranger and she had about thirty minutes to hype for that. 

In any case, none of this was very believable as a jump-off point for the evening.

The woman at first glance seemed a little too prissy for this type of thing. Then again, Korra had no reason to think that, aside from the immaculate makeup and expensive clothes. All conversational signs thus far pointed to Asami being normal, likable, polite, and in a few select moments something else entirely. Korra rubbed at her biceps through the knitted fabric, feeling stupidly cocky for thinking such a thing. They didn’t even know each other. But the type of connection she thought she sensed was one that didn’t require preexisting friendships. It felt…flirty?! And that was just not possible. People didn’t meet this way. Beautiful, elegant women who also liked women didn’t just get lost in the middle of Montana and show up on her doorstep like a Christmas present.

Because _that_ wasn’t a dirtbag of a thought. _A Christmas present?!_ God, she could slap herself.

One of the first things Asami told her was that she just got out of a relationship. _That she didn’t seem heartbroken over_ her mind chimed in. Korra sighed. She was a terrible host and definitely in trouble and this wasn’t a hallmark movie. And even if it was, it would way more likely star Mako and Asami instead. Korra was annoyed at the touch of bitterness attached to the assessment, at herself too because she had no interest in her life as a movie, romantic, or otherwise. But Mako was tall and handsome and managed to be charming without any smoothness. Girls liked Mako. She should know, she had been that girl once. Their short-lived relationship was passionate, nearly as passionate as their frequent arguments. And why was she preoccupied with predicting who Asami might end up with as if the woman were some prize? Like Asami could not simply exist amongst them without being some pawn in a romantic chess match. Korra was so far ahead of herself right now with a woman who was likely just trying to stay afloat after a procession of bad luck. 

It wasn’t like her to think this way. Maybe because Korra seldom felt any inkling whatsoever that another woman might be reciprocally interested in her, outside of going to a place designed for such connections. The prospect of it was one that intrigued apparently. To have it potentially happen with a beautiful stranger and entirely by happenstance, felt a little foreign and frankly bizarre. Korra was aware of the inherent hypocrisy there, that was Asami a man she wouldn’t think twice about an attraction. Maybe she’d be a little goofy over it, but she wouldn’t worry. Asami was not a man though and Korra felt how she felt. And she was doing an awful lot of talking herself down, quite a sizable chunk of freaking out. Restlessly, she chewed the inside of her lip and cheek, eying the stairs suspiciously.

“Sweetie?” She startled, eyes finding her mom’s very similar pair as the woman entered from the great room.

Straightening her posture, Korra pushed off the reception desk. “Hey, mom! Everything ok?” Then her eyes fell to the sweater, which she’d yet to see. All she knew was that Bolin picked the pullover. It was a teal number with two snowmen on the beach. Both were made of sand, one in a bikini and the other in swim trunks. They were sporting sunglasses. On her mom’s head was a white headband with snowmen on springs. “Nice.”

“Bolin said it would go well with the margaritas he and I are having later.” Her mother said shyly. It was another scrap atop a pile of mounting evidence that pointed to her mom having some schoolgirl crush on Bolin. Korra decided she would need to tell him to stop being so teasy. Her dad was helping nothing, seemed to think it was hilarious. In fact, the once a year that her parents came out here, her father actively encouraged the strange dynamic.

The sound of the door clicking open upstairs snagged both their attention and they watched in tandem as Asami descended the stairs, decked out in her Santa hat and the robot sweater Korra had worn three years ago. The woman managed to look insanely pretty even in that getup. Her mom sent her a knowing look and she shot back a questioning one, not understanding.

As Asami joined them, her mother smiled warmly. “I didn’t realize we had company. Hello! I’m Senna… _Korra’s_ mom.” There was a note of pride in that introduction, which made her crack a grin. It was out of the blue but still appreciated. 

“Hi! I’m Asami. It’s really nice to meet you.” The woman put her hand out but was pulled instead into a hug.

Korra was quick to mouth _‘sorry’_ …while green eyes stayed unperturbed. There was some measure of relief at Asami’s nonplussed reaction because her family was so touchy-feely. Her father was absolutely going to crush this girl with his bear arms.

“Korra, why didn’t you didn’t tell me you were bringing a date tonight?” Her vision became a hard-hitting crash-zoom, stomach dropping. 

"What?! No, Mom!!! God! She’s not my _date_.” She absolutely could not meet Asami’s eyes right now. Not a chance. “I didn’t get a chance to tell everyone, but Bo called. Her car broke down out by the Beifong ranch. She’s stuck out here for the holiday.”

Reddening over the bridge of a nose at the mistake, her mom sported a blush that was an exact match to the pink scorching a path across her own face. “Oh no! That’s terrible. You poor girl!!”

Korra risked a glance at Asami finally, who was regarding them both with a shocked little smile plastered on. Still, Korra supposed it was preferable to abject horror.

“Well…welcome! We’re happy to have you and I am so sorry for assuming anything. It’s just that you came out of Korra’s room. And she tends to be a little secretive with us!” Her mother said, tone hushed and rueful before Senna shot her a quick accusatory glance. And how was any of this her fault?

“Please! Don’t worry about it. Thank you for your hospitality.” Asami answered kindly, before shifting a worried gaze toward her. It was swirling with puzzlement and discomfort; made Korra unbearably nervous. “That was your room?”

Was _that_ the troublesome part? “It used to be. I usually stay there, but I’m gonna sleep in the rec room. It’s not a thing.”

Her mother placed a soft hand on her shoulder, expression all pride. Hospitality was a cardinal thing in her family, and she wasn’t always the best with it. Korra’s annoyance melted at the touch. The mistake had been an honest one and it was really nice actually, that her mom would’ve been so excited if she’d brought a girl for the holidays. She’d never brought any romantic interest, except Mako. Always bringing friends from then on. It was also a little gratifying that her mom would’ve thought nothing of said girl having model-level good looks.

“Want me to make up the couch for you, honey?” Her mother asked, kissing the side of her head.

Patting the hand on her shoulder, she leaned her head against her mom’s before pulling away. “I got it.”

“Korra,” Asami cautiously interrupted them, worry lines etching themselves across her forehead. “I can’t take your room. Let me sleep on the couch.”

She flipped her hand in the air, not having it. There was a fifty percent chance she and Kuvira would play pool till she fell asleep in there anyway. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. It’s not even mine anymore. Do you know how many times I’ve slept on that couch?” And that was a silly question. “I guess you wouldn’t, but it’s like my second bed here. I put fresh sheets on upstairs and everything. We promised you a room. It’s yours.”

“One thing you’ll learn quickly about Korra is that she’s very stubborn.” Her mother supplied unhelpfully.

She crossed her arms tightly and then pointed for emphasis. “I’m _not_ that stubborn!!”

“Okay, sweetie.” Korra pouted at the outright dismissal, at the exact same tone she’d heard her mother use a thousand times when her dad was being difficult.

Asami pushed the cuffs of her sweater half-way up her forearms, still looking incredibly uncomfortable with the sleeping arrangement. They met eyes and Korra tentatively smiled, an attempt to assure the woman it was beyond fine before turning her attention to her mother.

“Goodness, I almost forgot! I came to ask if you’ve seen your father’s phone? I’ve been calling it, but we can’t find it anywhere.”

Her father lost his phone or keys approximately fifteen times a day. Korra would predict about twenty percent of her parents’ shared time now consisted of searching for things her dad lost. “Did you check the kitchen? I saw him there earlier stealing cookies with Meelo.”

“Snitches get stitches, Korra!” A high-pitched voice yelled from the other room. She peered around her mom to see Meelo hastily shutting off the old video game console in the great room, as Tenzin’s bald head floated by the window outside. The rambunctious kid flew over to them and stopped cold, the goofiest love-drunk expression melting his face as he stared up at Asami. At least the boy had taste.

“Maybe someone should’ve helped me shovel then, Meelo.” Korra chided, nudging him with her foot before the ten-year-old started to drool all over his Star Wars Christmas sweater. He had felt elf ears protruding from the sides of his head, which kinda looked natural on him. 

“I couldn’t help! I was out in the wild, living off the land!” He argued, throwing up his hands.

“You were out in your treehouse with stolen cookies.” She interpreted giving him an unconvinced eye roll.

But he was already gone on Asami again, sidling over to the black-haired woman while she glanced down at him curiously. “I’m Meelo. What should I call you…other than beautiful?” Oh boy. That voice was pure cheese and where did he learn that?

Senna shook her head. “This is Asami, dear. She’s joining us tonight.” 

“Hi, Meelo.” Asami smiled graciously down at him. It was hard to tell what the proportion of amused to unsettled was. 

“Alright there Romeo! I think she’s a little old for you. Come help me bring in the food. Asami, I’ll be back in a minute, okay? My mom’ll take you over?”

“Can you check for your father’s phone while you’re there?” Her mother reminded cheerfully.

“Korra, I’d be happy to help you.” Asami volunteered gently, smiling at her, looking right into her eyes with a hint of guilt still there. God, that smile was totally killer. Probably best she separate herself. It would give her a chance to stomp her reactions back down, before she did or said something stupid.

“Don’t worry about it. This kid owes me some hard labor.” Korra thought for a second she saw a flash of dejection, but that was a stretch. “Come on you.”

“Who’s this Romeo guy?!” Meelo complained as they marched off to the kitchen. She laughed and threw her arm around him.

He was actually a good kid beneath all the bravado and once there was no one to impress they finished their tasks quickly. The two of them made short work of loading the snacks up on the cart they used to transport food when the lodge was in full swing. She handled the hot stuff, removing it from the oven and covering it. They saw her dad walk in and start loading up on utensils and plates. She tossed him his phone which was on the windowsill by the sink. Her dad’s sweater was a match to her own, the body of a deer against a backdrop of blue, his head where the stags should be, and sporting matching antlers. Pema was just finishing up the potato latkes Bolin had been talking about for days. The woman wore a knit poncho shaped like a Christmas tree beneath her apron, replete with ornaments and tinsel. Seeing this absurdity was Korra’s favorite part of the evening, the unselfconsciousness of it all.

Once the dishes were loaded and the coast was clear, Korra and Meelo swapped mischievous glances. He wrapped himself around the cart, and she pushed too fast. Kicking the doors open with both feet for them, he laughed like a madman as they jogged down corridors that led to a large gathering space. Though it was currently in its lounge arrangement, with couches and chairs distributed throughout, it served as the occasional wedding venue or meditation retreat. They only slowed as they reached the last door. He hopped down, straightening up. Together they walked in calmly, as though they’d been careful the whole way. 

She tried not to frown too obviously when the first thing she saw was Mako and Asami chatting. They both wore wide smiles and Bolin was talking animatedly beside them, a unicorn horn perched on his head to match his sweater. Nope, failure…she was definitely frowning silly horn or no. Unloading the cart, she turned her back deliberately to the scene, laying out the food and unsurprised to see Meelo had already escaped. She could hear him trying to order his sisters around already, spouting directions for karaoke, which both blithely ignored, devising their own plans. 

“I forget sometimes, how nice it is to have you around, Korra.” She smiled up at Tenzin where he stood beside her. His outfit drew an outright laugh before he bent to help her unload.

“Did Meelo choose that?” It was a red sweater with an image of a Santa Claus in boxing gloves punching a shark in the face.

“How did you guess?” He asked wearily, but good-naturedly.

“Got your song picked out yet?” It was more of poke than anything else. He was not a fan of karaoke. Against the tradition since its inception, when she and a much younger Jinora unearthed the ancient machine while cleaning out the basement, he’d only recently resigned himself to the inevitability of it.

“I think I’ll let Pema choose again. She’ll probably pick a duet. Besides, you know we won’t last with you kids.” The family usually only stayed for the first hour.

“Well, I’m excited. I love me some Tenzin crooning.” She chirped and he gave her a look of weak admonishment, which faded into a tiny smile too quickly. The innkeeper and Buddhist, close to a second father, had mellowed out quite a bit over the years she knew him, but then again so had she.

He was a family friend. Katara, his mother, lived in her even smaller hometown and had been the one to originally suggest Korra come out here for the summers, to help with her restlessness. Her parents were initially resistant but eventually gave in. She started as a babysitter for the kids, helping Pema who didn’t have enough hours in the day. She and Tenzin butted heads sometimes initially, mostly over her strong-willed insistence on forging her own way with nearly everything she ever did. Korra was a whirlwind of a kid, but he’d learned to trust her and she learned to respect him. It was a similar experience with her actual father, the struggle to strike a balance between autonomy and oversight. It was difficult now for her to remember what it was like to be chocked full of plucky confidence, to feel that she could do anything, to believe the possibility of death was for those who didn’t know their own strength. She’d had those notions kicked out of her too many times already. She didn’t like to think on any of it and things were different now, she was different. It was what it was.

Korra found peace in two places after the dust settled, after her limitations were burned inside her. One, weight training, was expected…she’d always loved physical things. The other was the exact opposite of expected. Since she first started coming to the lodge, Pema and the kitchen had been her soft place. On bad days, when she went full _‘bull in a china shop’_ on some situation inadvertently, when she took a tumble, when things went south with Mako, she’d call her mom at home and then find Pema who more often than not, was in the lodge’s kitchen. Baking of all things, eventually was where Korra truly found herself again.

She hated it when she was younger, threw burnt things across the room at the trash barrel, yelled at over-proofed dough…had even punted a tasteless sourdough loaf out into the snow in her untethered frustration. The balance it required between liquids, heat, rise, and flour, there was something powerfully satisfying in getting it right though. Years passed before she truly developed the patience and willingness to perfect it as a skill, but when she did, it was pure happiness. When she moved out here, she lived at the inn and cooked and baked, working for Tenzin until she was twenty. She learned all sorts of things during her time with him: carpentry, masonry, tile work, basic electrical work, lawn care, home maintenance, how to ride a horse…anything at all which gave even a fleeting feeling of usefulness. Korra soaked up manual skills like a sponge. They came easily to her, almost as though she’d known them in a second life, which was such an affirmation, given school came nowhere near as naturally.

Now, she had a little kitchen in town where she sold her breads and baked goods. She had a small client base, an apartment, and a tiny business that suited the new size of her ambition. It was slow going and she often dreamt of more, being somewhere else, somewhere bigger, more interesting…testing herself again, but they felt only that. Unreachable dreams.

A bizarre thought ran through her mind, an unimportant questioning of whether Asami would like her rosemary focaccia. It caused her to glance over her shoulder, picking at why that particular item popped so readily into her mind. To her surprise, she found green eyes already watching her, rendering self-consciousness when they appeared to light up. That was undoubtedly imagined, wishful thinking at best. 

“That would be the young woman Bolin picked up, I presume?” He remarked quietly, placing his hands behind his back. 

“Asami.” It was only the fullness of her cheek that told her she was smiling like a total fool.

“Ah. Why don’t you go over with her and your friends Korra? You’ve been working around here all day. There’s really no need. I can finish this.” Her eyes darted up to his, while he stood there with his kingly posture in that shark sweater. It made her grin. “Your mother told me you gave up your room so this young woman would have a place to stay.”

“It’s Christmas.” She murmured, feeling self-conscious. It just seemed the right thing to do when Bo called, but it was getting too much proud parent attention for her liking at this point.

“Christmas or no, it was still thoughtful.” Tenzin corrected in his authoritative voice, as though reciting the moral of some fable. “Go ahead.”

“Korra! Did you know this Asami is a Sato?! As in Satomobiles Sato?!” Bolin called loudly as she approached.

It took her a moment to assimilate that bit of information. “Like your dad’s old car?” The beat-up red sports car was the only thing the brothers had of their father and they'd seen quite a few adventures in it before it stopped working.

“Yeah. Her family started the whole company and she’s even designed some of the newer models! She’s an engineer. Pretty incredible.” Mako added, eyes unusually telling, and voice unusually interested. She took a moment to breathe and then another to inspect his raglan style sweater with the words _‘dreidel champ’_ printed across, his bobbing dreidel antennae. 

“Woah. That’s crazy!” She muttered before she could help it, surprised. 

“I know!!” Bolin agreed, laughing. “That’s exactly what I said. I can’t believe I rescued a Sato! Man!” Asami was taking all the attention in stride and merely smiled casually, brushing it off as though it were barely noteworthy.

“You’re a real knight in shining tow truck.” Korra joked, which cracked a smile from Mako and a laugh from the woman beside her. Both felt undeserved and her corniness…god, what she would give to be witty right now.

“Bo, calm down. Would you?” His brother cautioned, slinging an arm around the shorter man.

“But she’s a pretty big deal.” He defended from Mako’s armpit, raising a finger. “I mean, You’re a big deal, right?”

Asami looked doubtful though entertained and was about to say something when a new, rather flat voice piped in from behind the brothers.

“Her father was a big deal. He built Future Industries up from the ground. He was a great businessman and an exceptional innovator.” Kuvira was standing beside them in a black sweater, the word _‘SCROOGE’_ featured prominently on the front. Appropriate, Korra thought.

“Yes, he was.” Asami answered, her tone significantly harder than it had been.

And Kuvira had her smirk going, that was never good. “Must be an experience to walk into a ready-made legacy like that.” She couldn’t tell from the inflection if that was meant to be shitty or not. It certainly sounded like it, but Asami barely reacted. “Is there whiskey around?”

She stared at Kuvira a minute, attempting to unravel her friend’s behavior and mood. That could be a tall order at times, but she seemed edgier than usual. “Third shelf. Help yourself.”

“Anyone else?” The woman asked disinterestedly. 

“I’ll take one,” Asami responded with a polite smile, only to have cynicism lobbed back at her.

“On the rocks?” Was the impatient reply.

“Neat, thank you.” It surprised her she’d admit. Korra had no interest in drinking anything that tasted like fire and burned the whole way down. 

“You’re a whiskey drinker?” Mako asked, as stunned as she was.

“Sometimes, sure.” The answer was casual.

“That’s some hard stuff.” The tall man remarked, seeming unduly impressed in Korra’s estimation considering he routinely watched Kuvira drink whiskey neat, even joined in occasionally.

“Funny, Mako. You’ve never said that to me.” Her friend scoffed, speaking her thoughts aloud. Whether or not she agreed, it was a little unnecessary and felt arguably aggressive in the same way the comment about Asami’s father had.

“You’re in a good mood tonight.” The criticism was low, almost beneath her breath.

“I have my sweater to live up to,” Kuvira responded dryly, with a brazen stare that indicated she had no intention of modifying herself. 

“Actually, on second thought I’ll pass.” With a lasting stare, Asami met the other woman’s eyes. “I forgot Korra promised to make me a drink earlier.”

Kuvira immediately broke the eye contact, turned, and headed to the bar silently.

“I owe my mom a margarita. I’ll make you something. Be right back?” Her light tone was meant to be a knife through the strange thickness left in the wake of her friend’s departure.

“Would you mind if I come with?” She heard Asami ask gently, then felt a soft touch on her arm, stopping her retreat. It was involuntary, her eyes darting down, noticing the short fingernails with an immediacy that felt invasive.

“Sure, yeah.” Fighting back her disbelief, they walked off toward the bar, seeing Kuvira strolling back with the entire bottle of rye whiskey in her grasp. The woman’s eyes raking over the two of them before she passed by without a word.

“Don’t worry about her,” Korra said automatically. 

Those four words felt an insult to both Asami and Kuvira, and she wished she hadn’t spoken them as soon as they left her mouth. It was perplexing to like someone at the same time she knew they could be an irredeemable asshole. Her friendship with Kuvira had always been a collection of opposites, thorny and rewarding. The woman required navigation in a way that her other friends did not, but they had fundamental things in common, uncommon things in common too. Her friendship with Kuvira was something that had to be understood outside of words. The best she could do was that flimsy post-text.

“Bolin said something similar when I met her outside.” The woman volunteered, which cut for reasons Asami could not possibly know. “And I’m not worried about Kuvira.” Inquisitive, she turned her eyes on the other woman, grateful for the change in subject. “I was just hoping for another dad joke, honestly.” And that warmed her right up, snatched a grin.

“Not gonna argue with an appreciative audience.” She kidded back, her mind returning to the events of earlier, to the first signs of connection. That uneasiness she saw though, during the snafu with her mother, she wanted to apologize for it as much as she wanted a second chance to analyze the woman’s reaction. “Sooooo...sorry about my mom before. That must’ve been super awkward.”

Asami’s eyes remained friendly, unaffected, perhaps gentled if changed at all. “Why?”

“Uh…well, there was that the whole assuming you were my date thing.” With the kindness in that gaze, she found it easier to keep her statement unserious. 

“It was sweet.” Another touch to her arm, brushing fingers probably meant to indicate it was no big deal. _What was sweet about it?_ She found herself thinking. “She was so excited for you.” The woman ribbed playfully, clearly seeing her confusion. “I noticed that you have her eyes.”

Korra smiled, bashful and small and contented. “My dad’s are the same color, but I definitely get the whole big-eyed thing from her.” There was a time in her life when she felt her own eyes were too large for her face, made her look younger than she was…like a child even. Over the past few years, the annoyance she’d felt fizzled and reformed into appreciation.

“They’re really beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes like yours before.” The genuineness of the compliment, how straightforwardly it was given became heat on the base of her neck.

“Thanks.” Korra was able to say as she rubbed the burn away from her nape. “I never really think about them.”

She was grateful for and flattered by a compliment which was purely that, no subtle implications that left some unpalatable aftertaste. Korra hadn’t given much thought to the color of her eyes or her skin or the combination thereof, prior to summers at Tenzin’s place. It was the first time in her life, coming to Montana, that her appearance was something unique. To have it provoke reaction or commentary, an assumption of otherness, questions to determine her origin, as if she were some new species…it was an experience. And why was she bothering herself with that right now?

There was merriment to be had and drinks to make. To start, she grabbed a few beers from the bar fridge they’d stocked yesterday. She saw the newly arrived Opal approaching from the corner of her eye in a sweater patterned to look like a present, bow atop her head. Uncapping them with a practiced hand against the wall-mounted bottle opener, Korra lined them up. A brief introduction to Asami, before they were snatched up by the necks with a grateful smile, and Opal was off to distribute. As she began the margaritas, Jinora’s calm little voice filtered in over the mic. Korra looked up to see the kids had taken control of the karaoke machine. Giving an encouraging wink to the girl, she juiced some limes into agave syrup. It was then she realized she’d forgotten to explain to Asami their karaoke machine had not been updated in over a decade or that karaoke would turn into something a little different as the night progressed. They considered it part of their party’s charm but might not be quite so fun for an outsider. She hoped Asami was a fan of throwbacks…because the options were going to be limited.

The woman in question was pitched forward against the wood and watching Korra’s hands, engaged in their movements with academic intensity, carefully observing each ingredient selected. She tossed one of the limes in her grip just to see if eyes that were practically the same color followed. They did…right before they lifted to hers. A slow smile broke across red lips which Korra’s uncooperative brain deemed perfect. Sighing at herself, she added tequila, dividing between two glasses after salting the rims.

“Bo!” She shouted, pushing the margaritas to the end of the counter where they were quickly snatched up with utter glee. He all but sauntered over to her mother with them, who looked equally excited as they clinked glasses. Bolin was all sorts of excited about throwing one back with her mom, which she didn’t bother to analyze because she was still laboring over what to concoct for Asami.

Shaking her head, she stole another glance at the woman whose eyes were waiting for hers. “I’m trying to figure you out.” Korra started, the woman’s brows drawing together. “Obviously, you’re into strong.” Maybe they would land on some sort of martini?

Straightening up with a jolt, the white pompom on her hat bouncing into her face, Asami was visibly dumbfounded by the statement. “Um, I’m sorry?”

Korra had no idea what that reaction was about, so she clarified. “Your drink.” Lifting an eyebrow, she vacillated before reaching out to flip the puff back over the woman’s shoulder.

Recovering herself, Asami nodded. “Hm. What were you going to make me if I didn’t come with you?”

Korra sized her up, one eye closed and lips pushed to the side. “Well…I know you drink whiskey. Probably would’ve racked my brain for a while and then just made something with bourbon, since Kuvira took the rye. Maybe an Old Fashioned.”

“Mm. It’s a safe bet.” 

“A safe bet?!” Korra frowned comically. “Woof, that’s rough. Okay, since I have you, how ‘bout you tell me what else are you into?”

After a beat of silence, in which Asami appeared suddenly fascinated by the grain of bar’s wood, she looked up again. “I like a little sweetness sometimes, but it’s not strictly necessary.”

“Strong and a little sweet.” That was simple enough. “Bitter?”

“I don’t mind it, but it makes the sweet a must.” There was a drink she’d learned from the eatery Opal bartended at. Sounded like it might do the trick. “You look pretty professional over there,” Asami observed.

“Don’t get too excited. I’m sure you’ve had better stuff than anything I can do. You’ve got a whole city’s worth of fancy choices.” She downplayed, hoping to set realistic expectations.

“ _We…_ should work on your sales pitch, I think.” Asami chided.

“Here.” Pushing the glass toward the woman at a speed moderate enough to prevent sloshing, she watched and waited. It was nothing too exciting.

“Mm wow.” Asami’s eyes widened. “That’s nice. Thank you.”

Chuckling, Korra folded her arms across her chest, leaning a hip on the bar. “I don’t know if I’m satisfied with nice, but I guess it’s better than a safe bet?”

“Much better.” The woman confirmed. “Cheers.”

She unfolded her arms to take the second glass, tipped the drink toward Asami. “Cheers. So…here’s the deal.”

The woman was clearly confused and swallowed her sip hastily before speaking. “With?”

“Karaoke. There are some rules.”

Asami rested both her elbows on the bar, balancing her chin on her hands and adopting a face of enthralled attention, drink momentarily abandoned. “Interesting. Such as?”

She leaned in too, both hands on the wood edge, her tone conspiratorial. “Categories are picked from the bowl over there. Song binder is beside it with a tab for each category. A wild card category means you can pick any song you want. You can hop in on any round you want with a two-dollar in or sit it out. Scoring is majority judge rule. Decisions are final and style counts. Opal and Mako are the resident judges ‘cause they almost never sing. You can guest judge on an opt-out whenever you want. The kids mess around for a bit first before they head to bed. The machine doesn’t have any songs that came out after 2007, so I hope you’re good with throwbacks.” Korra then sobered a bit, giving a soft half-smile. “And there is totally no pressure for you to join unless you want to because while I’m saying all this, I’m realizing how ridiculous it sounds. Did any of that even make sense?”

Asami was quiet for a moment before she shrugged. “It’s a standard small-stakes ugly sweater Christmukkah Karaoke competition. What could be confusing about that?”

They shared an amused look with one another. “Exactly. You get it. We should grab some snacks. Pema’s latkes are life-changing. Lemme introduce you to Tenzin and Pema actually…they own the lodge.”

Korra made sure to walk Asami around to all those she hadn’t met yet and just barely noticing the subtle reeling beneath her smiles and handshakes. Within a minute of being introduced, Pema had invited the girl to Christmas Day dinner. It shocked Asami, but not her. They did a quick round of the snack table, before moving to the couches to join friends and family. For her it was effortless, falling into joking with Bolin, sidebars with Kuvira or Mako or both. But Korra couldn’t stop herself from glancing over at the woman beside her, watching as Asami pivoted in conversational settings with admirable ease, appearing to enjoy herself. They all settled into individual chats. Asami and Mako eventually ended up in some deep dive on cars, which she tried not to listen in on. Opal and Bolin were joking around with her parents. She and Kuvira were ragging on one another, trash-talking about who would win karaoke rounds, arguing casually about some hard-lined point one or the other of them was making.

It was the first time she felt it. Asami shifted a little on the couch, getting more comfortable and their thighs were suddenly touching. It was simple to dismiss it as a space issue, most likely was. But that warm patch of physical contact on her right hip, she couldn’t stop focusing on it as she tried to dissect Kuvira’s latest debate point. 

When she glanced upward, Korra felt guilty upon catching Ikki attempting to wave her over. Tenzin’s family was playing at the karaoke machine by themselves, which was not unusual. They were accustomed to being their own unit. The others weren’t quite as close as she was with lodge owners and their children. Decision made, she abandoned the couch group, abandoned the tickling warmth of Asami’s leg on hers missing it instantly, but...duty called. Korra walked across the room alone, bounding over to screw around with kids who had become her heart. She picked up and held Rohan in her arms, his hugs pure happiness. She and the kids belted out lyrics to the same songs chosen every year. They tossed the mic around like a hot potato, laughing at their mess-ups, being unabashedly silly. Every so often she’d glance over to the other couch. Her mom would always be watching, excitement for future grandkids clear as day in her eyes…which was on the edge of mortifying. But every third or fourth time Korra looked over, Asami would be looking too…they’d share a smile. Whenever their gaze broke, Korra would start from scratch on convincing herself it meant nothing.

Pema and Tenzin finished up with a lovely little duet from some movie she’d never seen but Pema loved, while the kids pig-piled atop her on the other couch. Her mother came over and picked up Rohan, dancing with him a little just like she used to with toddler Korra. God, Tenzin’s singing…he warmed her heart. The whole family was fresh air in her lungs. She hugged them all goodnight fiercely before they departed to bed. Jinora was already on her phone, likely texting that boy she liked. The grin crept onto her face, as she saw Tenzin attempting a subtle peek at the screen.

When she returned to the ‘friend’ couch with her mom, she felt lighter, more balanced. Sitting in the same place she had before, Korra made sure to position herself the same way…curiosity running up on her. Sure enough, the thigh press was there again…a gentle and constant pressure. She needed whatever focus she could pull away from that touch because karaoke was about to get real. It was an unusual arrangement she realized, having her parents and friends hanging out together…but they were all used to it, liked and knew each other. The first category, classic rock, her dad won. She could do without hearing him make that screeching noise again, but it was a spirited performance and he seldom went for it so whole-heartedly. Bolin and she did well, she thought, but not well enough. Their group was competitive. She and Kuvira and Bolin and even Mako sometimes were their own individual brand of catastrophe about winning. There was quite a bit of shamelessness in the quest to best. Korra was certain it must’ve been like watching a family game night gone awry complete with arguing and tempers and past histories. She couldn’t imagine what all this was like for Asami…who sat the first few rounds out as a guest judge with a look of near-permanent surprise.

Korra caught herself sending too many questioning glances at the woman beside her, check-ins, grins…anything to make sure she wasn’t overwhelmed. They kept circling back to one another, for conversation, for smiles, for eyes…and she did her best to be a comfort. Around the fifth set, when Korra was four dollars down, having only emerged victorious in one of the rounds she opted in for, her mom patted her leg.

“Sweetie, would you mind making Bolin and I one more?” Her mom asked, smiling a little too widely, while her dad looked on interestedly. Korra got the distinct impression he and Bolin had some sort of plan…one that apparently involved getting her mom drunk, which she wasn’t sure how to feel about.

“I could make some!” Opal objected from the arm of the chair her boyfriend was sitting in. She slapped Bolin’s arm lightly when he started along the foolhardy path of comparing margarita skills. “Come on Korra! You made the first, you don’t have to do everything. I’ll get this, okay?”

But Korra was itchy to feel useful, to move. “Nah, it’s fine. I wanna get up anyway.”

“Asami, you’re empty too!” Bolin pointed out, eyes bouncing between the two of them.

“Wanna come?” The offer was last minute, and she was a shaky sort of excited when the woman accepted immediately…happily.

Korra grabbed herself a light beer when she got to the counter, seldom one to drink more than one cocktail. Taking a big swig, she watched as Asami walked behind the bar with her this time, hopping on one of the stools stored back there. As she mixed, Korra rode waves of ebbing and flowing confidence, trying not to stare at Asami as she leaned forward, pushed palms into the wooden stool top. It was not their words causing those fluctuations in self-assurance; their humor naturally meshed, and talk had come easy all night. It was how their eyes kept finding each other, the silence in between what was said, the touches that were throwing her. Asami’s green gaze felt like a touch too sometimes, made her throat dry, made her wet her lips. 

Refocusing, she recalled bits of their conversation on the couch. Asami liked Manhattans she’d learned, and she intended to make one. She noticed a look of distinct interest when she pulled out a jar of cherries. After taking the single fruit she needed, Korra then pushed the open container toward the woman. Lifting an eyebrow, she presented Asami with a cocktail stick, flicking it out toward her in an en garde. With a smirk, the woman took it from her fingers. The skin of their fingertips grazed and what a silly thing to notice. Where she thought Asami would simply devour the two small cherries she speared, the woman decided to savor the garish instead. While Korra finished her pours and measures, she accidentally fell under a kind of voyeuristic spell. There was just so much red going on…maroon fabric pooling around a pale neck, that silly scarlet Santa hat, those ruby lips over white teeth nibbling delicately at merlot-colored cherries. The nearly black fruit was syrupy and glistening on the end of a toothpick…a pale finger dabbed at a full bottom lip, the tip of a tongue dipped out to collect the rest…and Korra’s mind was liquid. Asami was unconcernedly maintaining eye contact the entire time, bright green shining in a sea of red and white. There was no apparent awareness of the mayhem caused, only breezy jokes between small bites, talking casually while Korra fought to digest anything being said.

She worried the inside of her cheek restlessly, heart-pumping too loudly. Her palms were too warm and as she grabbed the jar to put it away, she nearly dropped it. With lightning-quick reflexes, Asami caught it and set it on the counter.

“Are you okay?” It was soft and concerned and dancing on the edge of amused. Could the woman tell what she was thinking? God, she hoped not.

Anxious, she wiped her hands on her jeans before grabbing the jar and sliding it successfully onto the shelf. “Just a clumsy idiot sometimes.” She murmured, which Asami’s eyes disagreed with.

Their interactions felt both real and staged...as if she’d stumbled into someone else’s life. In the other woman’s presence, new as it was, she conversely felt comfortable and on the brink of collapse. She had not expected to find herself, for lack of a better word, enamored of someone, feeling the same sort of heart-pounding exhilaration she’d only got on the back of a horse, staring at a mountain, the apex of a climb. The impact of Asami’s physical beauty, the woman’s presence too…both just floored her in such close proximity. She had no idea what to do with that, where to go given their situation…the inevitability of their parting. There were really only two realistic options for her…to see if this led to them sleeping together or let it stay nothing. She wasn’t fully ready to commit to either track.

As they walked back to the couch, dropping off her mother’s drink first, her decision edged a bit closer toward the more dangerous of the two options. They sat close again, shades of red still dancing inside Korra’s head as she relaxed her own posture, added a little more pressure to the press of their thighs. Asami made no effort to move away as karaoke continued into the next round. It was alt-rock, which went to Kuvira handily. A wildcard round passed and went to Bolin, on a stirring rendition of Beastie Boys ‘Sabotage’, which honestly, fair. The slide in on his knees was hard to compete with. A few more rounds drifted by in-between bits of conversation with her friends, and private asides with Asami. Two rounds she won, two she lost. Their raucousness bloated with uninhibited foolishness, a strong flavor of convivial rivalry, and good spirits. She was a little disappointed Asami hadn’t jumped in on anything yet, but she understood why.

Besides which, the woman kept doling out compliments at her voice which was admittedly decent and sending her radiant smiles at her successes. Those smiles spread over her skin and made her hungry. How attracted she was to Asami, it was stupid, really. She hadn’t wanted something or someone like this in a long time. She could feel the beginning of a pullback building in her stomach, a tiny flicker of panic. The next pull was 80s and a suitable distraction. There’d be plenty to watch. 

“I’m in, but for someone else,” Bolin announced, confounding her.

“That's against the rules.” Her objection was swift because she was certain you could not bet for someone else.

“There’s no rule about that,” Kuvira interjected.

“Come on, Korr! I have a dark horse.” The man argued passionately.

“A what now?!” Absolutely baffled by the turn of events, Korra’s gaze shot around the room looking for anyone to share in her outrage. She came up empty. 

“I’m hoping it’s not Opal. Since I’m assuming none of us are interested in ripping our own ears off.” The snide comment was accompanied by an equally snide smirk from Kuvira. For the life of her, she could never understand why the girl started things with Opal because Opal always finished them.

“Are there yellow cards, Korra?” The girl asked, sending some impressively angry side-eye. 

Korra flipped a hand in the air. “Nope. Sorry.”

“Oh, shoot,” Opal muttered. “You know what? I was supposed to give you something Kuvira…from the whole family actually. Where did I…oh here it is!” The woman whipped her middle finger out of her pants pocket, flipping it up as she smiled sweetly. “Merry Christmas!”

Kuvira winked and blew her a kiss with her own middle finger. Korra saw the slight shift in dark green eyes though, the scrap of hurt there. She wished that her friend could help herself in pushing Opal’s buttons. 

“God, how old are you two?!” She interceded uncomfortably. “Asami, are you the dark horse?!”

“ 'Fraid not.” The woman laughed and waved it off before tossing out her due. “Besides, I’m in this round. For me.” And it hit her like a brick, the declaration.

Kuvira sat back. “I’m out.”

“You’re never out on 80s!” Korra complained, feeling unsettled by all the unexpectedness. “Mako?! It’s not you.”

“Come on, Korra.” He added with a pointed look and then shocked her silly by anteing up. “And I’m in too.” 

She waffled wildly between undue stress over the idea of hearing Asami sing and driving herself crazy over who this dark horse could be. Mako singing, or sing talking as he did, couldn’t even properly steal her attention. And then it was Asami’s turn. When the first strains of some slow song that was familiar, but she couldn’t place began, Korra inched forward on the couch as though it would improve her hearing. Kuvira seemed to know the tune and was watching with unusual interest. When Asami sang, it was not how she would’ve predicted. The woman’s voice, rather than being smoothed by singing, was deepened and coarsened, melodic with a rasp that suited the bluesy song. It was the kind of voice that vibrated skin on the lower notes. Her stomach twisted and it completely, somewhat pathetically flustered her. _‘Black Velvet’…_ that was the name of the song. They were all staring, eyes bouncing between each other as they watched. 

“Guess you can sing.” Korra accused playfully, with an accompanying grin as the woman sat down beside her, the entire length of their thighs touching. “So, can we admit it’s over Opal?”

The girl shook her head, apologetic. “That was totally amazing, I mean…where have you been the last couple rounds?! But we still have Bo’s dark horse.”

Bolin smiled widely, rubbing his hands together, before shooting Asami a smile. “Solid smokey gold, Asami. I mean it.”

“Really nice,” Mako added, with the same thoroughly impressed expression he’d made several times over now.

Giving a small shake of her head, Asami crossed her hands in her lap. “My mother liked that song…I do okay with it.”

“False modesty. People love that.” Kuvira tossed out sarcastically.

Asami’s eyes shot toward the woman, as she lifted her drink. “Nearly as much as unprovoked sardonicism.”

Exhaling audibly, Kuvira glared over the edge of her glass. And that was a little much.

“What is your deal tonight?” Korra asked with annoyance, but her friend only shrugged, eyes shooting over to her phone as it vibrated on the table.

With a distinct frown, Kuvira flipped the device face down and realization hit. With one last warning glance, Korra let her friend alone. Some aggressive synthesizer then leaped from the speakers and beside the thumping boxes, stood her mother…microphone in hand.

Her jaw dropped open. “Bo, what is happening?”

Kuvira threw her head back in a deep laugh, a rare but pleasant rumble that erupted from her chest in a single spurt. “I guess Senna’s happening.”

“Uh, no.” Her debating was loud and confused, as were her manic gestures. “My mom does _not_ sing.”

Jumping to his feet, Bolin clapped and hollered. “Margaritas, baby!!! Woohoooo!! SENNNNA!!!”

“What?!?!” Korra’s body slumped into the couch cushion before it shot upright when her mom starting to sing with a gravel that put Asami's to shame. It made sense given her mom’s speaking voice but…god.

For the first time that night, Kuvira exhibited an actual smile, one that changed her whole face. The woman rested back in the armchair as her delighted gaze traveled from Korra to Senna and back again. 

“Tonraq!!! We did it! Look at her go!” Bolin slung an arm around her dad’s shoulder, who laughed heartily. There really was a plan, wasn’t there?

“Wow. Bolin’s…um…really into your mom, isn’t he?” Opal remarked with uneasy amusement as they both watched her boyfriend and Korra’s father wolf whistle from the love seat. She shrugged helplessly, at a loss for words. 

“Well, there go my chances for this round,” Asami added around a light-hearted laugh, nudging Korra with her shoulder who was still agape and unblinking. As her body swayed from the push of the other woman’s shoulder, she let go of her shock enough for a breathless half-cough, half-chuckle.

The two of them shared yet another smile over it, Asami’s fond and lasting, her own flabbergasted. Her mom up there…it was so much to take in. When the song ended, her flushed mother meandered over, embarrassed by the chorus of praise, by the supremacy acknowledging nod Kuvira gave her. Her father scooped her mom up, followed by Bolin and Korra made sure to give her the biggest smile she could manage. She knew her mom wasn’t much for the spotlight and it was deserved after such bravery. However, she was very not okay with the look her dad was giving her mom right now, the implications there. Her parents suspiciously went to bed right after her mother’s debut performance and Korra did her best not to reflect on that.

The competition evolved into something less structured. Bolin decided it was mandatory they finish on Christmas songs…which he always did at these parties. He loved them, which only surprised her the first time he admitted it to her, given that he was Jewish. Now it seemed a silly thing to even think of and ending on Christmas songs had become just another unique tradition…like having latkes on Christmas Eve. When they dragged the karaoke machine over, planting it on the coffee table, their carousing descended into the realm of ridiculous. It became a bunch of shitting on each other, a bunch of group performances from the couch, a bunch of loud razzing. Everyone sang, good voice or bad or deliberately bad. Bolin serenaded Opal from her lap which was a sight to behold.

He then thrilled himself with the creation of a portmanteau, Asami’s name, and her hat… _Santasami._ It was pretty funny, she could admit and the woman didn’t much seem to care. At his insistence that _‘Asami’s hat demanded it’_ , he bet Korra five dollars she couldn’t get through singing _‘Santa Baby’_ to the woman. Kuvira jumped right on that train, of course, upping his five drastically to twenty. It was exploitive and evil because they knew she was never one to back down from a challenge. She idiotically accepted, knowing the reasons not to, before sending a quick glance over Asami. The woman shrugged and smiled in acquiescence.

“Don’t make me laugh, okay?” She warned as Asami turned her body toward Korra in preparation, arm resting on the back of the couch, head propped on a hand, and lips twitching. “And you can’t laugh either!”

The woman coughed into her hand, rolling her eyes skyward in an apparent plea for strength. “Sorry.”

"You gotta do the voice too Korr!" Bolin reminded, and it set those lips twitching again.

“This is serious, Asami! Like high-stakes business!” She scolded, trying to keep a straight face. "Can you do this?"

"Mmmhmm," The woman murmured unconvincingly before consciously fixed her face, expression intent and still.

Looking away, Korra attempted to step outside herself and into the mood of a song she hated. She half-panicked through the slinky instrumental intro. This was not at all her type of thing, but she could do this. With a breath, she dove into the first line. The sparkle in Asami’s gaze was not helping, nor was the lip biting. Was that not to laugh? God. It needed to stop, but she wanted to sell this at least a little. Korra reached out to finger that white pompom, feeling absolutely absurd the moment she did it but shoved on with exaggeratedly languid movements. Twirling it lightly, she tried to ignore how totally out of her element she felt. She looked at Asami’s too green eyes…and that was a mistake. God was that a mistake, but not as big a mistake as gazing beyond the woman for a split second of relief. Korra got a front-row ticket to Mako's brain exploding and the next word was lost to a fit of embarrassed laughter, from which she never recovered. It blessedly ended the whole debacle.

She flopped onto the couch dejectedly. “Just take it.” Wadding up the bills, Korra threw all her remaining money at Bolin and Kuvira, rubbing at her hot face. “Monsters.”

“You almost made it through,” Asami encouraged, gaze and smile slightly shy.

“Liar." She chided, around her own self-conscious smirk.

Bolin and his dumb ideas…it served as a nice little wrap up to the night though. After helping to do a quick clean, hugs and kisses to the cheek, some nice to meet yous for Asami, the brothers and Opal filtered upstairs to their respective rooms. Kuvira had disappeared to god knows where.

Asami’s voice grabbed her attention as they found themselves behind the bar together for the third time. “Korra…”

“What’s up?” She asked, resolved to say something smooth, something that would move this along, but her self-assurance crumbled. If she could just kiss the woman, no words, no lead in…it would be simpler. Asami might not even want that, she reasoned…though it kinda seemed like she might. Sometimes. Maybe. And she was scared, which made no sense. She wasn't the type to be scared of things like this. 

“Thank you. For the drinks, for keeping me company, and for making my night a little better. It was really sweet of you to keep checking on me like you did.” That sincerity, when it filled Asami’s voice and her eyes alike, she felt her confidence plummet lower still; inversely affected by a sharp peak in attraction.

“I was worried it’d be a little too crazy, you know?” She said with a grin she had to manufacture, words starting to become harder to find, feeling forced or inane.

“I think this turned out to be exactly the right thing at the right time,” Asami answered with genuineness, but it sounded so final to Korra. Like a need was met already. A night to forget all that had gone wrong, that was what the woman needed while she was trapped here. That was what the woman got. There was nothing for Korra to offer. 

“…that’s good. I’m glad you had a good time.” She floundered.

Asami had her arms crossed over her body, was gazing down at her not entirely as comfortable as she’d been in their prior conversations. “So, this is…the end of things tonight?”

Assuming that was the woman’s way of asking if it was okay to just head upstairs, she glanced at the clock on the wall. “I didn’t realize it was that late. Yeah, everyone kinda heads to bed after karaoke.”

There was a whole lot of hesitation she didn’t understand. “I guess I should…probably head upstairs too then?”

Scratching at the base of her neck, Korra stared at the floor, eyes only flicking over to Asami for milli-seconds at a time. “Sure. Go ahead. You’re probably exhausted.”

A quick squeeze to her hand was enough to make her lift her eyes though and Asami’s gaze was changed, cautious and a little less open, but anticipative. It struck again and hard, how beautiful the woman was. “I’m really hoping we run into each other again while I’m here. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Definitely!” Korra was sure of that if nothing else.

The woman tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, nodding toward the floor and lingering. Taking a visible breath in, Asami’s gave her a smaller smile than others received this evening. “Good night and...Merry Christmas, Korra.”

Cocking her head, she felt heavy and overcome by the need to say anything, a single word that would combat the sensation of a wall erecting itself. Ultimately she did nothing…she couldn't, felt some invisible block holding her back. “Merry Christmas!” That was all she could think to say.

Asami left without looking back and she watched her retreating form, feeling like she’d screwed something up but not really sure how she could’ve fixed it. Korra was lost in her own creeping disappointment at how quickly the night ended, at herself, a leaden sort of crestfallen. She was distracted enough that Kuvira shocked her with two words, commanding, and firm by her ear. “Outside. Now.”

She jumped about a mile, having been engaged in other thoughts. “What?!”

The expression on her friend’s face was a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion. “Meet me outside.” Kuvira didn’t wait for a response.

Korra stood by herself in the empty hall for another moment, puzzled and shaken before heading to the mudroom where Naga was sleeping peacefully. Slipping on boots and coat, she readied her dog, jittery with nervousness over whatever Kuvira might want. She walked out behind the house, hopping from boot imprint to boot imprint while Naga bounded along beside her. As she rounded the corner, hugging her jacket around her, she found Kuvira leaning against the side of the house.

“Saw the end of that disaster,” Kuvira commented, staring out into the dark, the slow falling flakes glittering as they caught the glow of the Christmas lights. “You shut her down. Didn’t expect that.”

Shaking her head and crossing her arms, she propped a leg against the exterior of the building. Everything was swarming fresh inside her, making it was difficult to understand what she felt. “There wasn’t anything to shut down.” 

With an annoyed frown, her friend glared at her. “You two have been making eyes at each other all night like high school kids.”

She felt caught for reasons she couldn’t fully grasp, like she’d done something wrong suddenly or she’d been careless. “She’s only here for a few days. What would be the point anyway?”

Kuvira sighed heavily, rolling her eyes with her voice remaining even. “For someone who loves sex as much as I know you do, that’s an awfully dumb question.”

A little flash of temper welled up. There were moments where as good as it was, she wished they’d never slept together the few times they had. In the moment, they were always in synch, both physical people whose competitive natures complemented each other in that capacity. Then after, her friend would toss it out unexpectedly, weaponized with flippancy and apathy. She wasn’t sure if it was on purpose, but it made their time together feel cheap. “God, way to make me sound like a whore. What is wrong with you tonight? You’ve been such a dick.”

The other woman steadily watched her, those piercing eyes digging in. “Loving sex doesn’t make you a whore. And for clarity's sake, are you mad about my being a dick to you? Or to her?"

“To everyone! But yeah…especially her.” She snapped, aggravated with this mood of this conversation, with how hard it was to pilot.

Kuvira scoffed quietly to herself. “I thought as much. I don’t like her, which is not relevant to our current conversation. And I’m allowed that besides.”

“Why?” She asked, exasperated because even if the other woman had some guttural response to Asami, there was no reason to be openly hostile, to make everything awkward for the whole group of them by taking verbal shots without cause.

“Mostly because I knew _you_ would.” The response was wholly confusing. “Otherwise, there’s really nothing not to like about her. Is there?” It was a question that some part of her pulsed in warning over.

“What does that mean?” 

Kuvira was unyielding. “I’m not going to explain it any more than that.”

“God! You are so hard to understand sometimes.” Impossible was more like it.

“Well, I suppose it’s good we’re not much to each other then.” The woman answered, jutting her chin out, a sort of protective thing she did and how Kuvira could say that after all they’d been through together…

“Can you take a deep breath or something? You know you’re one of my best friends.”

Kuvira’s posture deflated, a barely detectable slouch and a bit of emotion escaping as she heaved a sigh. “My therapist is right about some things, I guess.”

The fast change confounded her. “What things?"

“That I sometimes lash out at the people I care the most about. Abandonment issues apparently, but I’m paraphrasing.”

Softening, she nudged the rigid girl with her elbow. “Guess that’s the closest I’m gonna get to _‘hey, you’re one of my best friends too’_?” She got a half-smile at that, proceeded by another of those long stares. Unsure where to go, she decided to bite the bullet and ask what she wanted to. “Is everything still the same with Su?”

“In that all the prior issues still stand? Yes.” The prior issues largely revolved around an extra-marital affair with a much older woman, who took in and apprenticed Kuvira when she ran away from home. She knew little of Kuvira’s early life, only that she somehow ended up in the care of the Beifong family at a young age but was not their child legally or otherwise. The family owned quite a bit of land and a large ranching operation and Kuvira’s natural aptitude for farriering, and later smithing made her an asset business-wise. From what she’d gleaned, on a personal level, Su had no intention of ever leaving her husband, ending the affair, or acknowledging its existence. It was a skeleton in her closet, so to speak and Kuvira, who for the sake of sanity should’ve walked away ten times over, was quite probably in love with Su. Or as close to love as Kuvira let herself to love. “She’s been trying to get ahold of me all day.”

It was what she expected with the look her friend had given that ringing phone earlier. “You gonna meet her?” Unfortunately, she was wholly sure of the answer before even asking.

“We both know when I decide something, I have to take it to its furthest conclusion, even after it stops making sense.” Again, she translated the words in her head…that Kuvira knew she should stop this, but wouldn’t, had turned it into some contest of wills. “It’s my signature, but I’ll make her wait till tomorrow at least.”

She knew it was a punishment for the older woman, being ignored during the holiday on purpose. She knew Kuvira was hoping Su wouldn’t sleep, would lie awake and check her phone repeatedly, waiting for a response. Her friend tended to do that, turn things into right or wrong, try to force a pre-determined conclusion out of some iron-headed belief that things should be a certain way. Once a person was wrong in the girl’s mind, all things were fair. Kuvira thought Su owed it to her, to acknowledge them as something real. Though she understood why, at this point in her life she also recognized that being the same-sex, much younger sidepiece of a married well-to-do woman with influence… acknowledgment was a pipe dream. 

Maybe that was what she related to so strongly in Kuvira, that stubbornness, hurting yourself accidentally in the process of clinging to a self-imposed concept of rightness and being so focused on seeming strong that you could scarcely admit what you were doing. She also knew that in a lot of respects, and beyond what was fair or unfair, right or wrong, there was a more important and less complicated truth. Her friend desperately needed recognition from a woman she cared deeply for and was very likely never going to get it. That was where the sympathy arose, and there were times she wished she didn't know Su. It would make her feelings less conflicted.

“Are you okay? For real?”

Kuvira was quiet for some time, eyes dark and far away. “I saw three more ‘for sale’ signs this morning. This town is turning into acres of nothing. Except Su’s place, of course…they’re impossible to compete with. Everyone is just shutting their eyes and pretending nothing’s wrong, that anything is remotely fair and all these small places going out of business, is just the way of things. I wish I could take control in this town…no questions, no other opinions, do something before it all goes to hell.”

It was difficult to react to because it was so totally outside of her expectation, and anything else they’ve said to each other. Korra would’ve been prepared for some lament about Su, about love, about the holidays…but this was beyond. “You really think that’d be better?”

“Of course, it would,” Kuvira answered with confidence. “Look at this town.”

She didn’t agree with that necessarily. “I don’t think one person in control is ever good. There’s no one to check you. It’d be asking to go too far.”

Deep green eyes that were nothing like Asami’s...they were a forest at night, unreadable and full to brimming behind the mask. And _Asami,_ she felt the ache of disappointment in her chest again, and why couldn’t she just be happy with the time they’d spent together tonight? It was nice...

“Anyway,” So _that_ conversation was over. “I think Bataar Jr. is going to be the final straw. I’m guessing that’s what Su wants to discuss.”

The shock of it was visceral. “You slept with her son?! You don’t even like guys.” The whole thing was so strangely, almost incestuously chaotic. “…do you?”

“Not generally. He’s been helping me design my new forge and workshop. Apparently, he’s been in love with me for some time.” Kuvira answered quietly, avoidantly, rubbed at the small piece of iron meteorite kept on her person at all times…something to fidget with. “At least that’s what he says, and I haven’t slept with him, no. Glad you went there immediately.”

“You don’t think that had anything to do with your cryptic phrasing!?” Her question was agitated and forced out over the unease still churning in her stomach. There was no answer. “How do you feel about it?”

“Sorry for him, mostly.” Kuvira tossed the stone in the air, catching it roughly and pocketing it with a pained frown. “Flattered too, which is...irritating.”

“Hang out for a while. We’ll play pool or something.” The suggestion was more because she was worried than from an actual desire.

Kuvira snorted. “Under no circumstances. Do something about that girl.”

“I don’t think I…”

Her friend interrupted immediately. “Of course, you don’t. I suppose that’s _your_ signature now.”

Puffing vapor into the cold air, Korra gritted her teeth, groaning. “Great! Did you bring me out here to do that fun thing where you pick me apart ‘cause _you’re_ in a bad mood?”

“You deserve it right now. You’ve talked about moving some bigger for years, you want to climb again, you want a bigger storefront, you want that girl upstairs. I get what happened was hard for you, but that doesn’t justify stewing in mediocrity and unnecessary self-doubt for the rest of your life.” Kuvira remarked quietly, the softening in her tone the only sign of feeling breaking through.

“You suck at motivation.” Korra reacted, more ruffled than inspired.

“I’m not your cheerleader. You’re a thoroughly capable person, Korra. You could have the things you want, you used to go for them. I don’t know why you won’t now. There's nothing wrong with getting what you want.” 

“How is throwing myself at some girl who’s having a crappy Christmas being a capable person?! That doesn’t even make any sense.” She argued, voice rising as annoyance reared up inside her at how uncomplicated it sounded when presented that way...as if her obstacles were anthills.

“I know you understand what I’m saying, but if you’d like to parry my observations by harping on some asinine misinterpretation then by all means. Knock yourself out but forgive me if I have no sympathy for your plight tonight. A gorgeous woman being just a little too subtle in her interest to penetrate that impressively thick skull of yours? What a tragedy.” The sarcasm was scathing.

Her muscles felt tight with repressed things, arms tightening as she glared. “You’re a real jerk sometimes.”

“But I’m right. That’s more important.” The retort was delivered with utter certainty. “and I’m going to sleep now. I'm tired.”

Korra glared at the woman’s back, infuriated until Naga came running over to her. Without thought, her fingers buried themselves in white fur, scratching, petting. It calmed her instantly, allowed the worry beneath her annoyance to lift to the surface. “...wanna go for a run tomorrow?”

Turning, she saw heavy brows cinch before Kuvira gave in with atypical immediacy. “Fine, before dinner...but you need to find a reason to go upstairs tonight. That's the only thing I wanted to say to you.” Her friend didn’t wait for an answer, merely walked away.


	3. Stupid Questions, Human Backpacks, and Bittersweetness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning...this chapter contains sexual situations in a bedroom setting, oblivious bisexuals, mild suggestive language, possible grammatical or spelling errors, and mention of implied Christmas kink

Asami stripped herself of Korra’s sweater and placed it atop the desk beneath the window, feeling itchy with agitation. Removing her make-up, washing her face, brushing her teeth, none of it fully turned her mind off. Discontent, she sat on the still made comforter and rested bare arms on her knees. 

Korra hadn’t responded how she’d hoped. It was the truth of the matter and one consuming enough that it occupied the entirety of her thoughts, left no room to think on anything else. There was an annoyingly persistent thought in her head, that the lack of response had been karmic. Asami wasn’t a person that often felt bad for what she wanted, though she certainly had rules which guided her behavior. No glaring moral imperatives could be trespassed against, abuses of reason should be avoided whenever possible, sparing feelings most always a consideration. Technically, she was no longer with Iroh. She was no longer with anyone, but did the recentness of that require some period of mandatory mourning or celibacy? How long did she need to concern herself with his feelings about actions which were hers alone after their parting? And did the fact that one was supposed to _‘take time’_ after a breakup mean that she had to? Even if she didn’t feel she needed it? Even for something that could progress only to a certain point? Even for something whose opportunity only existed within a certain space? It irritated her on a personal level that she was going down this path at all, that she’d attribute Korra’s apparent disinterest to some crime against romantic norms she’d committed. As if the woman didn’t have the right to be disinterested otherwise. It was to some extent her own vanity, which stung like salt in a wound. 

Chance was largely responsible for tonight’s events, her brain provided as a new avenue of argument. It was not an assessment that she could fully disagree with. She couldn’t be held accountable for the breakdown of her car, that it ceased to function in this specific town, that Bolin’s tow company had been the only one open, for how attractive Korra was, for the fact that they seemed to mesh, and most especially that all of this would occur a day after she and Iroh broke up. She didn’t intend any of it, and talented as she may be, couldn’t engineer such a set of domino incidences besides. Intention or not though, the night had ended with her in the mindset of taking Korra to bed. With that acknowledgment, she returned to a cyclic awareness that for all intents and purposes, she’d been rejected. The degree to which that rejection was a conscious decision, was an unanswerable question. Their situation was fundamentally restrictive, and she could not approach this with the clarity she might’ve had they met differently. She didn’t feel right in asking Korra any more directly than she already had. Not trapped in another’s space, in another’s life, not in a place she’d been inadvertently inserted into and didn’t belong.

And all this thinking was so very her a response. She was trying to rationalize in an attempt to combat the oppressive negativity prowling inside her chest and stomach. Asami was not ashamed for flirting, but it would be a lie to say her pride wasn’t bruised. It had received a swift kick, one that she hadn’t expected given the serendipitous developments which proceeded it. It was something she’d not prepared a block for, not even thought to. She was usually decent at detecting interest in others, would’ve put money on it being returned, but the way they said goodnight to each other was an upheaval, flipped her perhaps arrogant assumptions on end. There was an obstruction in Korra’s eyes, a hesitation she hadn’t anticipated. Sitting on the bed, alone and reflective, she wondered if it had to do with her breakup…that the girl believed she was being sized up as a rebound or replacement, because of inconvenient timing. Their timing was conducive to nothing really…and her harping on timing, it was likely another placative bandage for her injured ego.

Disinterest, rejection, dismissal…none of them really felt completely accurate for what had occurred at the party’s conclusion, her relentless mind began anew. Because what had occurred was more nothing than something. It was a lack of reaction that she was over-analyzing, attacking from opposite directions and she sighed. There was a wish growing inside her, that she could remove her own brain for the night. The increasing likelihood that she’d be thinking this to death until sleep saved her from herself, it was not a happy realization. 

Asami was startled by a light, barely detectable knock. She walked over, not thrilled at the prospect of whomever it was seeing her face completely bare but unlocked the door nonetheless. As she peered through the crack, there was a barefoot Korra in jeans and a thin long-sleeve shirt. That lop-sided grin was beaming as though there were nothing between them to feel awkward over. Asami would’ve returned that smile earlier in the evening, but remnant depression was curling inside her, wrapping itself in distrust…creating restraint. 

“Um…would it be okay if I brushed my teeth real quick? I forgot my toothpaste up here.” Korra said, voice low as she fidgeted with the toothbrush in her grip, twirled it.

“Sure, of course.” She pulled open the door halfway, politeness overtaking her discomfort as she moved aside. Korra slid in on tiptoe, closing the door softly behind her with practiced ease, before waggling her brows as though the act were impressive somehow.

“Kinda feels like I’m sneaking into my old room.” She murmured, laughing softly as she pulled the sleeves of her shirt around her fists, exposing half her clavicle through the loose neck. In these clothes, Korra’s shape was much more obvious and that was nothing Asami wanted to be noticing right now. 

Mounting nervousness coiled in her stomach but she hid it behind a quirked brow and a small smirk she didn’t much mean. She watched Korra notice the difference in her mood, embarrassed for herself as the girl shrank and ducked into the attached bathroom. Listening to the sounds of running water and swishing, Asami chewed at her now nude bottom lip, eyes tracing the nearby window, the parted curtains, drawn by the blink of Christmas lights shutting off. They must be on a timer, her brain uselessly deduced before returning to more significant matters. She leaned her body against the desk, crossing both her arms and legs.

Korra was up in the room with her and they were alone again. It was to perform a nightly ritual in a bedroom that the other woman should be sleeping in. These were facts that likely had nothing more to them, no hidden meaning to attribute. It didn’t matter that she still desperately wanted to kiss Korra, that despite a rebuff she was again thinking about those lips that didn’t look plush. Instead, they reminded her enigmatically of clay. When she was sitting behind that bar watching Korra mix a drink, the image of her own hands, years younger and running along the rim of a thrown bowl, the damp smoothness of the clay beneath her fingers spinning…it tied itself to the image of the other woman’s mouth. In the moment, she thought Korra felt similarly, not about the clay…she was certain no one else would relate to such an eccentric comparison…about wanting to kiss her too. Every instinct in her said that there was something deliberate in Korra coming up here now, but her instincts in sex and love had not proven to be her friend. She had no intention of trying anything else, not with how it went prior.

As she stood there, lost in her thoughts, Korra exited the bathroom sans toothbrush and walked up to her, stopping abruptly a foot away. Asami was curious and wary, the faint scent of mint hitting her nose while Korra, unmoving, mulled something over.

“Look,” There was scratching at a craned neck, blue eyes peering through fallen hair. “I’m about to say something stupid.”

It caught her out, and she felt several reactions changing her face. “Okay.” She said finally, interested but nervous.

“Maybe I read you wrong, so I’m not totally sure if this is way off base, but I felt like something was going on downstairs…with us,” Korra started as though this were new information, gazing at her without any expectation buried inside those eyes. 

“Korra…” She answered with a flatter tone than she would’ve liked after her brain kicked back on. If that was the case, why had the woman just let her walk away? “You didn’t read me wrong.”

This was a little baffling, but not half as puzzling as the owlish tilting of the woman’s head at her admission…again new information it would seem. Asami barely halted the question on the tip of her tongue, if the timing had been a factor, but why bring it up if Korra wasn’t? And if it were only timing, there would be no reason for the other woman to be surprised. Progressing with increased care, heart speeding as the reality of this sunk its teeth into her neck, Asami started down a different path, unseated enough that her honesty lost nuance.

There was at least one note of caution she wanted to lead with. “But I’ll probably be stuck here for at least another two days. I wouldn’t want that to make anything awkward for you. This is your holiday.”

Korra was visibly taken aback by her words, her chin shifting back into neck skeptically. “Well…not afraid of awkward. I make plenty of that on my own, but I don’t think seeing you around after would be anyway.” Asami wasn’t certain what to say, wasn’t fully ready to trust where this was presumably going. “I guess I just came up here ‘cause,” Korra puffed air from the side of her mouth, fluttering an errant strand of hair. “If you were trying to tell me something before and I missed it, sorry for being an idiot, but if I wasn’t obvious or anything, I’ve been thinking about kissing you pretty much all night.” It was divulged at a full verbal run, words gathering velocity and anxiousness both.

The following silence between them had weight. Asami didn’t think she’d been overly subtle…and was it possible this was just a misunderstanding? Missed signals? A twinge of amusement hit, because if that were the case…had they really both been brooding like idiots in separate rooms for the past twenty minutes? She did know one thing. Though their connection could only go so far as fleeting pleasure, it was much preferable to leaving this place never knowing what Korra felt like.

“ _That_ ,” Asami began around a harsh swallow, managing not to look away. It would be prudent to drop any delicacy moving forward, she decided. “Is very mutual, but…” Some tiny part of her experienced a click of satisfaction at the worry in Korra’s face, made the woman wait a second longer than was strictly necessary for a continuation. “To be upfront, _I’ve_ been thinking about a little more than a kiss.”

Blue eyes popped wide, mouth agape for a moment. “Okay, wow, also very mutual.” Korra stared at her, something in her gaze unsure before it seemed to change completely, solidify with purpose.

Asami watched with full awareness and pounding heart, hyper-cognizant as Korra moved toward her. Her eyes tracked down to lips, something cracking for the two of them as their distance gradually faded. It wasn’t a blur or a frantic press or a bolt of lightning, was not shocking at all. For Asami, their kiss was sinking into a hot bath. It spread warmly over her and was as whole body as a conscious out-breath. Her eyelids fluttered closed, arms moving gently to rest atop Korra’s shoulders when she was drawn in by the waist. All she could think was that she’d forgotten what it was like to feel a new person close for the first time. She’d forgotten the inimitable excitement of a good first kiss. 

A striking difference, it jumped out at her immediately. She’d grown accustomed to sweet and comfortable kisses, the kind Iroh used to tell her things…that he wanted her, that he cared, that he wished her luck, that he appreciated her, but he did not ever kiss to kiss. Korra though, she kissed to kiss, that much was apparent. The woman was in no rush and moved with the confidence of someone in their element. That endearing awkwardness was absent in the sliding press of Korra’s mouth. The dipping ins, the deepening, those sculpted lips dragging over her own…each was an individual event. Each kiss possessed its own beginning, middle, end, and the variations called attention and begged a response. Neediness was pooling in the pit of her stomach, a steady accumulation which spilled over into her fingertips, made them tingle. And the way Korra hummed against her mouth like her lips were some delicious taste…Asami couldn’t stop herself from chasing those kisses, prolonging their finish. She was combing fingers through short, soft hair, as she indulged her curiosity about what that bottom lip would feel like gently held between her teeth. Korra’s eyes drifted back open after they parted, heavy-lidded and ardent.

Shifting back slightly, Korra surprised her by pulling off her own shirt, tossing it to the side, running hands through dark, ruffled tresses to smooth them. Her surprise became a stun at the perfect planes of lean muscle that covered every inch of the woman’s frame. It made her breath catch in her throat and her reaction to it, more the strength of it was bewildering. Asami’s wide-eyed blush was at the sight of Korra in just her bra and pants. That stomach…those shoulders…those arms…that thick band of geometric tattoo around her right bicep, there was quite a bit to take in. She’d been with fit men, but it was always a known feature beforehand. Without conscious thought her fingers traveled the ridges of just visible abdominals, staring at a faultless physique she truly did not expect. 

“Your body is…” It was mindless, her speaking, her not finishing the thought. How in the world this was hiding underneath that silly reindeer hoodie all night, she couldn’t comprehend. She knew she was still staring. She might even say that stare was in danger of becoming impolite, but really.

That grin was back and an interesting contrast to the flash of genuine appreciation in those eyes. Korra drew her into another kiss, both hands on her cheeks, a kiss which set things accelerating. Her hands were all over the woman’s triceps, deltoids, traps. Those muscles…they were amazing tactilely too, soft skin with firmness beneath everywhere she touched. And then her camisole was being tugged at. She lifted her arms, and it was off in seconds. Her fingers were working at jeans as Korra turned them both and walked them forward toward the bed. Somehow the other girl managed to get ahead of her, pushed her pants down a little, before pushing her down on the mattress fully. Her jeans were being pulled off from the ankle along with her socks. She watched, lips parted and breath unsteady, as Korra stayed standing, divested herself of her own pants, and then crawled on top of her. They were kissing again and Asami slung her arms around the woman’s neck, scooted them clumsily backward toward the center of the bed. The last bits of clothing were removed with a bit more care, lingering glances.

Their bodies grazed, heated and heavy and again Korra seemed in no particular hurry to halt their kisses which were a different experience with so much of them naked and touching. When their mouths reluctantly parted again, labored inhales spilled over collarbones and necks and shoulders as Korra held herself on extended arms above her.

She was left staring up into blue eyes which turned darker as they raked over her. “You are just…insanely beautiful, Asami…God.”

The quiet words drew another blush, but before she could say much of anything in return, decide on which of the many things that were swimming in her mind she wanted to try, Korra was settling down, slipping in beside her. She was being turned onto her side, not roughly but that strength. Korra was not big, not in any way that description could be applied. Even her muscles were more sculpt than bulk, but she was apparently a miniature powerhouse. She could feel every bit of Korra’s front pressing into her back, full breasts, the weight of a leg gliding between hers, and a knee rested on her downside leg. One arm pushed its way beneath her shoulder and the mattress. As lips blazed along her neck, hands ran deliberately over her, exploring, cupping her breasts, massaging and teasing her skin. They lay together clothed in nothing but the light of a lamp, a dim glow that cast shadows. The exposure of it was softened by the immersive sensation of their bodies locked and warm. Any thoughts beyond the feel of it were born and died with the cadence of her breath. Korra’s strong hold on her, it was secure rather than constricting and that purposeful touch…Asami was alternately falling and floating. A hand eventually slid down and drew open her other leg, stroking down her inner thigh in a smooth, firm caress. She sucked in a breath when that hand froze.

“We’re gonna have to stay pretty quiet,” Korra whispered to her.

She nodded, alarmed by how shivery she felt, and then Korra twisted to kiss her. Time was stretched by the hot dance of lips, teeth pulling lightly, tongues barely meeting and that hand drifting closer. It continued down and over her completely and it was two fingers at first. Not inside but dragging and drawing back and squeezing, making her see colors behind her eyelids as the motion repeated over and over. Hips churned lightly behind her in a gentle roll. With the absence of space, them fitted together as they were, each movement belonged to both of them. Sinuous glides were shared and as those touches continued, Asami groped behind their bodies for something to steady herself. Her hand landed on the other woman’s backside, felt it clench in her curling grip, felt Korra’s smile against her mouth. Her own hips weren’t just following anymore, they were jerky…becoming hard to control.

Her jolting pulled a change of pace, more pressure that redoubled with repeated, mind-numbing circles. They were concentric and closing in and teetering on the edge of enough. Sensations evolved again when her toes curled, her thighs becoming taut. Unable to keep the kiss, she broke away to bury her face in her folded arm, moaning through her clenched teeth into the tight space there and letting the mattress muffle whatever sound escaped. Her whole body was electric and thrummed with building energy, a burn in her belly, a knot tugging tighter and tighter. Her thighs kept trying to close reflexively, to trap that hand. Korra slipped down slightly…used her own leg to hold Asami open. Her stomach clenched violently in response and soothing lips flowed along her upper back. When the hitching cut up her exhales, when her breathing grew shallow…touches became faster, firmer, swirling. Her orgasm was crashing waves drowning her in liquid heat. Korra slowed it down, kept her in the feeling while she gasped into her elbow. Those gasps turned sharp when where she expected a stopping point, there was a fresh start instead…tension pulled and rebuilt and mounting until it crested again with surprising quickness, a hotter surge that left her skin alight and body trembling.

Korra untangled herself carefully after and laid sideways beside her. Legs bent and rubbery, Asami rolled onto her back. A gentle hand rubbed across her stomach, her ribs…calming the flutters and she exhaled unevenly, gazing over at the other woman. They smiled at each other and she was fairly sure hers looked silly, drunk perhaps. It was how she felt and she was too boneless to care about appearances. Just as it had happened all night, she couldn’t seem to stop staring at Korra, her eyes traveling down to an absolutely gorgeous pair of breasts. Decision made and already missing their skin joined, she took a moment to compose herself before she moved over Korra, leaning down to kiss her, paying rapt attention to the feel of their chests brushing. It was such a turn-on for her, full-body contact with another woman and she’d missed it more than she’d realized. They fit together exceptionally well and she practically melted between those parted thighs, idly wondering what it might feel like to have those strong legs wrapped around her waist.

“I might say something stupid again,” Korra murmured into their kiss.

“I liked what happened the last time you did,” She whispered, a little breathless.

The woman seemed a little less sure of what was to come next. “I wanna ask you for something,”

“Okay.” She encouraged.

“I know it’s a little weird, but…I guess there’s no other way to say it. I want you to sit on my face…like really want it.” A shock of arousal punched her hard at the indelicacy and boldness of opposingly soft-spoken words.

There was nothing in her head to say though except something she considered far more deserving of the ‘stupid’ designation than what Korra had revealed. Still, she had nothing else to go with but a joke. “It was the sweater, wasn’t it?” 

Her reward was an adorably hearty laugh, reined in quick with a cautious glance toward the door. They both watched it for a moment, hearts stopped and ears pricked, but no sound emerged from the adjacent hallway. They looked at one another again, Korra’s eyes starting to glint.

“It was that Santa hat, actually. _So_ hot.” The mock desire made her want to swat the woman and their comfort level with each other right now, it was…unusual given the circumstances. There was a part of her surprised by their jokes, their light-heartedness…she was used to sex being a more serious or emotional affair. “Wanna put it back on?”

“Mm. Only if you finish that song for me.” The silliness between them was pervasive, waiting even in the moments they’d spoken on more serious things tonight. Asami wasn’t silly very often, but she found herself enjoying the levity.

“Not a chance.” That quiet chuckle, the way it lit up those eyes, both reminded her she’d not had the chance to explore Korra yet.

“I think it’s your turn.” And she moved to kiss the woman’s neck but was caught with gentle hands on her face.

“I’m not really worried about me right now,” Korra answered quickly, determination in that gaze. Nervousness made her sit up on the woman’s stomach, trying desperately to ignore what that felt like. Soothing hands immediately ran up her thighs.

“I’ve never done that before,” Asami admitted quietly, not with any shame or hesitance …reporting really. No one had ever asked her, which she had no strong feelings over. It wasn’t really anything she’d given much thought to.

Korra smiled up at her, unbothered and open with thumbs kneading into her muscles pleasantly. “Just ‘cause I like it, doesn’t mean we have to. There’s plenty of other things I could do to you.”

With her eyebrow raised, her mathematical mind busied itself with formulating an explanation for her lack of answer, words for what she was wondering. “It’s not a ‘no’, but I have a logistical question.”

“A logistical question,” Korra repeated, her stare amused and then intent as it rolled down Asami’s body.

“If we did, which direction would I…” And words failed her then because she couldn’t find a suitable collection of them, something that didn’t sound filthy spoken aloud. 

“Come up here.” Moving as indicated, she sat beside Korra’s head, feeling incredibly self-conscious and gazing down while heat gathered beneath the skin of her cheeks. The other woman reached over and turned her a little so she was completely facing the headboard, nudged her leg. “And this goes…”

She basically had to straddle Korra’s head and that meant it would only be her. Confirmed then, that this had no possibility of becoming a both of them at the same time thing. Her heart gave a pronounced thud in her chest and… _spontaneity._ It was the flavor of the evening. With a deep breath, she clamped down on thinking and brought her leg over, trepidatious in putting any real weight down.

“Stop me if you hate it.” Korra offered, lips vibrating against her inner thigh as arms curled around her legs.

“I don’t think that’llnmmph.” And she had to slap a hand over her mouth as the other hand at the first touch, intense as the feeling was. Blue eyes stared up at her, observing and adjusting and this was…she wasn’t even sure. Those hands kept easing her lower, coaxing her to relax, forcing away the likely unrealistic concern that she was going to end up breaking Korra’s nose somehow.

Closing her eyes, she tried to ground herself with a shaky series of breaths. In her head, wheels were turning, drawing comparisons, clinging to the dubious conclusion that this was no different than being on top, which she always enjoyed. It took some internal cajoling, the abandonment of her preconceptions…oh, but the soft noises Korra was making, the enthusiasm helped. It certainly didn’t hurt anything either that the woman below her clearly had some foreknowledge regarding this particular activity. The building was already starting, her sensitivity from previous attentions turning the volume up on everything. She let herself go little-by-little until her body was doing what it wanted, doing what Korra wanted. And this was a different planet than having someone go down on her. The way Korra’s curved arms and palms felt on her thighs, the way the woman kept looking up at her with those big, beautiful eyes that somehow managed to look innocent and not at all so…she was taken in by those things as much as the physical sensations. Though she’d had attentive lovers, she’d never been with someone quite so into this for its own sake, which was incredibly sexy. She came not with rolling waves but a hard snap of pleasure that made her bite her lip, hang on to the headboard, sounds reduced to whimpers. Asami felt hollowed out by it, reduced to satisfied ache and honey mind. 

As Korra slipped nimbly out from beneath her, looking unexpectedly just as satisfied as she was, Asami nearly fell into a slouching sit against one of the pillows. A soft grip on her fingertips called her eyes. Korra waited until they were watching each other, to shift languidly, to sit astride her lap. It was a very welcome development, and her arms circled the woman’s waist, bringing them nearly flush.

“Hi.” Her voice was sleepy and low and needed to be fought for.

“Hey.” It was said right before another kiss was placed on her lips. She returned it with enthusiasm, unconcerned with her own taste and invigorated by the prospect of touching Korra in return. “Asami…” 

“Hmm?”

“Stupid thing number three.”

She smiled, a low groan of a laugh against the girl’s mouth. “You know, I’m starting to feel lied to. None of the things you’ve said have been stupid.” She braced a hand on one of those muscular thighs and took a moment to gawk again at that ridiculous body.

“That’s ‘cause you keep saying ‘yes’.” Korra debated quietly around an airy chuckle, with half-closed eyes and hard tips of her breasts brushing Asami’s.

“I appreciate a direct approach.” She remarked, kissing the woman’s neck to divert her mind.

Unable to restrain herself, she ran palms over Korra's gorgeous chest, teasing gently…the resultant hum of an exhale washing over her. As her fingers continued their play, the woman's sensitivity was immediately apparent, the staccato breaths, the newly taut skin, those strained sounds…it was making her insufferably hot.

“You do, huh?” Korra murmured, shakily. “I really wanna ask you not to be gentle, but that’s _actually_ stupid. I won’t be able to stay quiet.”

It was another gut-punch of a thing to hear, but her mind was already working on the problem.

Her hand was already between their bodies. Gliding across the other girl, she found Korra just as excited as she’d been. Without a tremendous amount of build-up, she pushed inside deeply, a firm curl of her fingers replacing the pace she would’ve otherwise used. Korra tensed and snapped an arm back, shoving a fist against her mouth to keep quiet, groaning around knuckles. She found her gaze helplessly drawn to the alluring flex of muscle beneath the tight skin of Korra’s stomach…those hips moving on her hand, but it only stayed for a beat or so. Each time her eyes left that face tonight, it kept itself at the borders of her attention, waiting for her to return.

“Too much?” She asked quietly, mostly sure of the answer, shifting her fingers, enjoying the shiver it caused. 

Korra’s nostrils flared, brow cinching, as her fingers dug into Asami’s shoulder. “One more.”

She raised an eyebrow, lip caught in her teeth as she complied. Blue eyes fluttered open fully, a hushed groan muffled against an open fist, fingers twitching. Asami disrupted the woman’s rhythm on purpose to take it over, again watching the movement of hips on her hand. Lovely as it was, she wanted more, was kissing across Korra’s chest, taking the tip of a breast in her mouth. Deeply satisfied at the immediate arch in the woman’s back, she moaned softly around skin, let her own eyes close. Fingers were in her hair, clutching, pulling her in. To couple tender attention up top with firm pressure below…like two disparate sensory experiences in one, she felt saturated with rawness. When her thumb was added to the mix and when those curling strokes led to tightening around her fingers, she left those breasts. Her intense gaze was fixed on Korra’s face now. Eyes were half-closed, barely audible cries bleeding through around the back of a hand, body freezing up as the woman came on her lap. It was an absurdly attractive visual and she was most of the way there herself over it…waited as long as she could before slipping away.

“God,” Korra whispered around an exhale, fingers sliding into the hair just beyond Asami’s temples. A forehead was rested against hers. 

“Are you ok?” She asked, running soft hands up her sides, noticing the skin there was slightly damp with sweat, that it prickled with goosebumps at her touch.

Korra’s quiet laugh turned to a sigh, tapered to another of those hums. “Uh, yeah. I’m good.”

They stayed slumped against each other for another few minutes before Korra flopped on her back beside Asami, stretching her legs out. Her eyes ran helplessly over that body yet again, landing on that face in repose. Korra was smiling contentedly, crookedly, lips parted enough for white teeth to poke through, and rubbing fingertips lightly across her own collarbones. It was distracting enough that it took Asami a minute to notice that Korra was studying her too.

“Do I get one last debatably stupid thing?” 

She slid down next to the woman, prone and pulling the shoved down bedsheet up to their middles before resting her head on crossed arms. Feeling equally peaceful in their afterglow, even with renewed arousal nipping at her, she observed the hypnotizing play of those fingers. “Sure.”

Gazing at her, that grin was still on display. “What’s your stance on post-sex cuddling? I’m on the pro side, but I can give you some space if you’re not.”

She pretended to consider the matter carefully, something tugging at her when she did, a desire to have Korra stay the night with her. “I’m pro too, so long as we separate to sleep. And I’m saying that because…” The idea of the other woman heading downstairs to the couch after this was twice as abhorrent to her now, made it seem far too much like this was a service rendered. “I’d really like you to stay up here with me tonight.”

Korra shoved lightly at her elbow, blushing slightly. “If you don’t stop with the perfect answers, I’m never gonna stop with the stupid questions. It’s your fault at this point.” 

She laughed in her throat, closed-mouthed and smiling. “That’s not really fair, since you’re the one who keeps asking them.”

Frowning before her expression turned a little dangerous, Korra waggled her brows. “I have a logistical question.” It was said seriously, with the register of her voice dropped in what she assumed was an impression. A challenge arose in her as her head rolled to more fully face Korra. 

“Oh, do you?” She inquired with a touch of reprimand, as she pinched the woman’s side.

Korra squirmed with a tiny yelp and then had the decency to look somewhat chastised. “Big spoon or little spoon?”

Seizing the opportunity, she slid in her own retort. “Since I don’t really wanna wear you like a backpack, I’ll take big spoon.”

Korra drummed fingers against the expanse of dark skin between her clavicles, adopting a terrible excuse for an affronted expression. “That’s how it’s gonna be? Shots fired at my completely average height?”

“You did make fun of me first.” Asami reminded playfully. “Do I really sound like I’ve smoked since I was a toddler?”

The girl was tongue-tied apparently and Asami felt a flash of smugness. “No, you don’t. I like your voice. I just can’t make mine all sexy like that! The point is it’s not like you’re that much taller than me.” The woman said, not unkindly but with a hint of peevishness that highlighted a bit of actual offense beneath.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize this was a sensitive subject for you.” She offered half-apologetically, rubbing at that stomach. It was utterly ridiculous, the tone there.

“It’s not.” It was an unconvincing huff of denial, not helped by Korra tossing her arms behind her head like a pillow, before she stared at Asami, vaguely pouting. “And my human backpack cuddles are pretty high-end stuff, I’ll have you know!”

“Mm, I don’t doubt that.” Leaning over, she placed a kiss on that slightly protruding bottom lip, noticing the eager curiosity on the other woman’s face when she hovered there. “Was I mean?” Korra nodded a little cautiously, as though unsure if they were still playing. “Let me make it up to you.”

“You aren’t tired?” Korra asked, but her hands were already tracing up Asami’s sides, confidence regained. 

She smirked and said something less light-hearted and closer to how she was truly feeling. “It’s a little hard to be when you look the way you do and you’re next to me naked.”

The woman laughed quietly, lifting on an elbow to kiss her. “Most relatable thing ever,” Korra murmured. “Not that you need to, but now I’m curious. How were you…uh…gonna make it up to me?” The girl questioned, running a palm over Asami’s extended arm.

“Well…” She began, leaning down and placing her lips below an ear, pressing a kiss there. “I was hoping you might be amenable to letting me go down on you.” Her response was soft, earnest and she tried her best to make it sound legitimately inquiring.

The woman sputtered badly enough, that for a single moment she worried it might be a ‘no’. Korra wet her lips, obviously flustered, which was interesting given how comfortable she’d been saying such things herself. “I…yeah, if you want to.” It was barely above a whisper.

“I very much want to,” Asami reassured gently, pressed her lips between breasts, kissed down that sculpted abdomen, sheets dragged with her as she nipped at the smooth skin there. Korra tilted her head back, training wide eyes on the ceiling, parted thighs to give her room. She traversed the groove that separated abdominals from obliques, dragged her lips along inner thighs, and lifted strong legs onto her shoulders, palms running along the muscles there, fingers gripping them. 

It was the beginning of a more that wore them out completely, or to be accurate wore her out. Korra seemed satiated, a little blissed out, but definitely less ruined than she was. When her body had enough, they wrapped themselves up in each other. The idea of size divergent spoons was abandoned completely, and she found herself curled into Korra’s side, a strong arm beneath her neck, warm covers cradling them, and her eyes disobediently drooping. A hand played in her hair, augmenting the relaxed fatigue blanketing her…

In the grayness of early morning with her entire arm numb and asleep, she woke. Asami was puzzled and somewhat unsettled to find her head still nestled in the crook of the other woman’s arm. She was a proponent of physical contact, embraces, and gentle touches from lovers, but it was the first time in her adult life she’d fallen asleep in the arms of another. She attributed the anomaly to otherworldly levels of exhaustion, given all that had transpired the day and night before. Relaxing onto her side after carefully moving away, Asami chewed on why having fallen asleep on Korra would evoke some primal vulnerability, a pang in her chest, some echo of sadness over how good it felt when nothing else they’d done had that effect. It was illogical and therefore irksome, but as her eyes mapped the other woman’s relaxed face, tiredness crept up again and overtook her, easing her worries.

When her eyes opened again, blessedly a little later morning, she was significantly less lucid than in her prior episode of wakefulness. The sun was just streaming through a slight part in the curtains and she watched a few dust motes dance through it. Her mind needed a reboot before it could explain her nakedness…before the memories of last night wandered unhurriedly to the top of her sleep jostled mind. She ran hands over her face, avoiding the delicate skin of her under eyes out of habit. Turning her head, Asami went to reassure herself of last night’s reality except there was no Korra. Evidence of another having slept there yes, but no person. They weren’t drunk last night, maybe some remaining tipsiness, but they knew exactly what they were doing for all the time they did it. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the fact Korra had left without a word, though she certainly wasn’t owed any.

“Morning.” A voice said quietly and there was the other girl walking out of the bathroom naked as the day she was born, unwrapping a towel from her head which must’ve been to keep her hair from getting wet. Korra certainly had a healthy level of body confidence. Asami would admit that it was fully founded, but still. Her eyes were giant and unblinking while an embarrassing pang of arousal warmed her belly. 

“Hi.” The greeting was managed with less vocal control than she would’ve liked.

Korra seemed to notice her tizzy. With a cocked head and an amused expression, she wrapped the towel around her body, clearly not anticipating her nakedness would cause any sort of commotion. “Sorry, I know it’s early. Was just rinsing off before I go back downstairs. We gotta do a whole mixed holiday and non-holiday present opening thing with the kids, but I’ll come grab you for breakfast? You like pancakes?”

Nodding dumbly, she tried to collect herself, wondering if Korra had no real sense of her own attractiveness or if she was absolutely aware of it and a tease. The first option felt truer from initial impressions. “Yes…I do, yes.”

“Good. I’m gonna head into town for a while after that. Need anything?”

“Will anything be open?” She asked inanely if only to volunteer a wholly unsexy subject. Holiday hours seemed suitable for such purposes.

“Maybe not, but I could probably hunt stuff down if you need it.” The woman answered, gathering scattered clothes from last night. It was a challenge to bury her reaction when jeans were slid on with nothing underneath, underwear pocketed. “That’s not why I’m going though, I just need to take care of some stuff for tomorrow.” Fingers were tossed into hair after Korra threw on her bra and shirt. “Which is probably more information than you need. I mostly wanna stop by my shop.”

It was then she realized she’d never asked Korra what she did for a living, discussion of various skills aside. Asami had assumed from the limited information their conversations supplied and a single corny joke, the girl was some sort of handywoman. That might not be true, given this new context. She drew her legs up beneath the sheet, sitting up and resting arms on her covered knees. Her exposed back registering a slight chill.

“What type of shop do you have?” She questioned, curious.

Sleeves were pushed midway up forearms, as Korra rolled her neck and shoulders. “I have a little bakery in town. Nothing special.” She could not pinpoint why exactly, but the shock of this news was of a pleasant sort and drew a wide smile. “What?”

“Nothing. I just don’t think there are many bakers who could double as fitness models.” The jest was light-hearted and paired with an appreciative gaze.

The woman laughed quietly, eyes closed and lips parted. “Well, I don’t think many engineers slash car mechanics could double as fashion models either. Guess we’re in the same boat.”

“I don’t know about that.” She demurred, pushing subconsciously at her own knee as she fought an undue wave of disappointment. That Korra leaving would cause such a thing, she did her best to believe it made sense given how enjoyable last night had been. Perhaps it was for the best…she needed to start diving back into the reality of her situation. “Mako told me last night he’d take a look at my car today. Do you know how I could contact him?”

Gathering her hair up in a short ponytail, Korra’s words were muffled by the elastic now held between her lips. “I think he said he was gonna inventory this morning or something while the garage is closed.” A lock pulled itself free not a second after its securing, and she watched as Korra eyed it with annoyance, tucking it behind her ear harshly before glancing at her. “I think you’ll see him at breakfast, but if you don’t, take a walk over after ten or so.”

“I’m hoping I can convince him to let me fix it myself.” She revealed, wondering why watching Korra do nearly anything was so terribly fascinating.

There was a definite scoff, not mean nor aggressive, but with something beneath that piqued her curiosity as did that grin, which was wry and uncomfortable at once. “Yeah, I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that.”

Asami knew Mako found her attractive, was much surer about it than she had been with Korra. While not one-sided, she considered it ultimately irrelevant. He was a handsome guy but physically, he was too full of echoes. His golden-brown eyes, his pale skin, his black hair, all were too reminiscent of Iroh, slimmer build aside. He was the type of man a younger her would’ve fallen for quickly, she knew, but those similarities with her ex…they closed her off to him immediately, as did the surrounding circumstances of their meeting and the knowledge of her imminent departure. She was perfectly happy to soak in the enjoyment of an attractive conversational partner and remain unconcerned for anything else with Mako, secure in the knowledge their timing was prohibitive.

Korra though, where many of those same arguments should have applied, justifications took their stead. Asami was admittedly intrigued by the woman’s uniqueness, most especially against the bulk of the people she interacted with a regular basis. Korra’s brand of buoyant intensity, those grinning smiles which betrayed an unshakable and likely accidental goofiness, the playfulness they fell into with one another…it was unlike her usual interactions with people. For lack of a better description, being around Korra last night was…fun. The monosyllabic descriptor felt inadequate though, childish, but she could think of no better term for the lightness the girl’s presence conjured. Asami’s life definitely had a deficit of fun people in it. Serious people, ambitious people, kind people, manipulative people, successful people, smart people…many who were some combination of those things, but fun people were a rarity for her. It was a little addictive if she was honest, made her imagine silly diversions…momentary glimpses of what sharing her own entertainments with Korra might be like. She’d thought about taking her for in a spin in one of their racers on the company test track while they talked on the couch...if the reaction would be fear or excitement or both. It was a strange thought to have about a girl she’d just met and would never see beyond this.

It was only the second time in her life she’d felt an attraction strong enough for her to indulge in something like this. A one night stand she supposed…the first she’d had with a woman. But this felt much more comfortable the morning after than the prior time she engaged in such a thing. Though there was an unfamiliar feeling buried deep in her, something small and a little painful. She did her utmost to skirt around it, reflecting on the loveliness of their time together. 

“…last night was amazing.” She said because she wanted Korra to be clear on where she stood.

There was a smaller smile at that, not a grin this time, but something softer, more careful. “Well, you’re pretty amazing. Seriously.” Then an eyebrow popped up and bounced, making her lift one of her own. “Would it...be okay if I kissed you again before I head down?”

The question caused an unanticipated surge of excitement. “More than okay.” She answered playing it off before the furriness of her mouth made her rethink her agreement. “Let me brush my teeth first.”

Korra shrugged, entertained. “I’m up for another minty kiss.” 

It took her a second to wrangle up sufficient courage, standing and heading over to her suitcase. Asami dug out a silk robe she sometimes wore over her nightgown, while Korra sat on the mattress politely averting her eyes. Slinging it on, she made her way to the bathroom, feeling silly. She was just not a person that felt overly comfortable with casual nudity. It was not due to shyness but more a product of her upbringing, less a commentary on vulgarity and more to do with the expectation of presentation. She felt similarly in allowing others to see her without any makeup. And come to think of it, Korra had witnessed that too. Asami added that to a growing pile of things not to think about.

As she brushed her teeth, she focused on mentally cataloging what she needed to do today, what she would need to arrange at work during her unexpected absence. When she stepped back into the bedroom, her mind was still on work. “Korra, do you have any wifi here?”

“Code’s in the top drawer of the nightstand. You’re still gonna have Christmas dinner with us tonight right?” The woman asked with an endearing level of hopefulness.

“Yes.” She answered absently, still analyzing her predicaments while she sat beside the woman, folding her hands in her silk-covered lap. “There’s no way my car is a one-day repair, plus I’m certain getting a part will take some time out here, although I have a few favors I can call in,” Asami shook her head, that guilt cropping up again. “I really feel terrible about all this. I don’t even have anything to bring tonight.” And then she remembered the wines she’d intended for dinner at Iroh’s. “Oh, but I do have a case of wines in my trunk! I’ll dig those out and bring them over. It’s not much…”

Korra reached out, rubbed her arm quickly, comfortingly before drawing back. “Wine’s always good and an entire case sounds way more than adequate. I know this whole thing is probably a big can of weirdness for you, but try not to worry so much, okay? Everyone knows you’re stuck here. It was just an accident, your car broke. Stuff like that happens, Asami and none of us think anything about it.” And those words made her realize how outside of her experience it was to be in a position where she could give nothing. It was likely causing these feelings of intrusion, of undeserving. “Plus, we have food enough for a small army anyway. And…I did get to have last night with you. Made my Christmas.” Korra grinned then frowned, eyes rolling. “Aaaand I might have to ask you to ignore me again.”

Smirking, she focused on the other woman fully. “Then I might have to refuse again.”

Rather than waiting for Korra as she had the evening prior, she initiated the kiss herself. It lasted a little longer than she intended, and she likely would’ve lost herself further to the headiness, had something else not distracted her. Asami had never worn this robe with nothing underneath. The smooth, cool slide of the fabric against the naked skin of her chest was entirely unhelpful. Coupled with the kisses and possibly the temperature of the room, the resulting response in her body made her breakaway to hunch forward slightly. She was embarrassingly certain it was quite visible beneath the thin silk.

Korra thankfully appeared to notice none of it, instead was staring at her with darkened eyes. After another second, the woman scoffed to herself, sighing dramatically and quirking an eyebrow. “Ok, we have a problem. I’m gonna need you to figure out how to be worse at kissing. I have to do stuff today.”

Watching Korra for a moment with a hint of disbelief, a smile twitching on her lips, she spoke. “Mm. That’s not quite how I planned to spend my day,”

Tossing her hand out as she stood, Korra looked down at her. “Well, add it to your list! What if I’m stupid enough to push my luck again tonight? It would help if you could make your kisses gross by dinner.”

“But wouldn’t that preclude the possibility that I _want_ you to push your luck tonight?” She asked, a part of her firing off in warning, adding fuel to that speck of disconcerted feeling. It might be too much, might be pushing both their luck, not with each other but the universe. Gazing at Korra standing there though, she couldn’t find it in herself to care quite as much as she should. 

The woman blinked at her. “…pretty sure I could be convinced.”

"And what would this convincing entail, so I’m aware of how to manipulate my chances?”

Shaking her head, Korra tilted her head. “I don’t know. Your continued existence.”

Warmth swelled up in her chest at the words, at their easiness, but it did not rid her of that kernel of ache growing in her stomach. “I think I found my favorite kind of strange in you.” She remarked, worried she might be stepping over the line of too honest. 

Korra paused, forehead cinching as she glanced at the floor briefly. Puffing air from her nose and squinted one eye. “Is that a compliment?”

“Absolutely,” Asami answered sincerely. With that last exchange, they parted ways, her watching from the bed as Korra slipped away. 

As the door closed soundlessly, her mood began to shift. That pang in her chest expanded unchecked and the _‘what have I done’_ she was waiting for since she left Iroh, it rippled across her consciousness. It was less a _‘what have I done’_ and more of a _‘what am I doing’_ or perhaps even a curse word with no accompanying accusation…something akin to _‘well, shit’_. It was not regret she felt, she regretted nothing. It was also not relegated only to her current circumstances. It was a retrospective and involuntary comparison, thoughts flying backward through her memories and hanging on selective choices she’d made. They were a barrage of instances in which she’d chosen to trust something she knew was wholly emotional…had no cogent backbone to prop it up. It cast over her like a shadow, the loneliness such experiences had evoked in the past. That loneliness was carried with her everywhere. It lived in the hole left by her mother’s absence, in the tragedy of a relationship she had with her late father, in the unimpressive number of other persons she’d dated, men and women both, who’d been able to make her feel safe or loved or both but always drifted away because what fastened them to one another proved too superficial for ever afters…and lastly in her and Iroh and their internal shapes which were too similar to fit.

That loneliness was a coating over so many past experiences, steered her in matters of the heart, changed the color of love remembered, and had led her to alternately rush in or withdraw. The crush and constancy of that loneliness, she lived longer with it than without. Having it lifted on a night that started without any promise was pure weightlessness and not something she was at all prepared for. She’d been blissfully afloat in the sky of Korra’s eyes for too long and now that the ground was back beneath her feet, gravity was more burdensome than usual. And there she went again with the poetic and hyperbolic nonsense about that girl’s eyes. She gazed down at the white expanse of linen where they’d slept together. Asami was sure her reactiveness in this had to be symptomatic of some emotional fatigue, all of this…the ache, the relief, the unnecessary over-complicating. 

She decided to check her phone then, seeing a single text from Iroh amongst a few work-related items. There was a silly sense of dread as she clicked their message chain, but it was just a short well-wish for Christmas from late last night. She was sure that he would assume when she texted back it meant she was home safe. She was also sure she’d do nothing to disabuse him of that notion. With a slight tickle of guilt, she returned his sentiment before skimming over the rest of the emails and texts, shooting off a few quick responses where needed.

Her thoughts were too soon recaptured by the near-ceaseless introspection which had been plaguing her since she began her drive. Without that shell of loneliness last night or this morning, every touch and smile seeped deeper into her skin than she thought to anticipate. Fun was the word she kept returning to in her most surface-level processing, but things could be fun and emotionally confounding at the same time. Korra hadn’t felt like both until Asami woke in her arms, and suddenly she understood. That feeling of being sad and happy at the same time, enjoying something so elusive and good and knowing it was temporary…it was bittersweetness. But it was silly to think having sex with a beautiful woman could be dangerous in any way, to bother herself over something wonderful only because her loneliness was alleviated in Korra’s presence. It was a good thing…it had to be. The rareness of experience did not automatically make it worthy of concern. This was likely an inflated reaction anyway, one that would invariably turn out to be nothing at all. The holidays always opened her too wide, made her sensitive, reached inside, and clasped onto those things inside her she’d rather let alone. Wherever these feelings arose from or what they were, it ultimately did not matter. She was leaving this place and that was the reality. There was simply no point in dwelling on unexpected chemistry, gorgeous blue eyes, oddly familiar morning afters…or bittersweetness.


	4. Keeping Up With the Beifongs

Korra could hear Bolin bounding up the stairs to retrieve Asami. She’d intended to go get the other woman herself, but then she’d been abducted by the children. There was some distractedness pulling at her attention this morning, to begin with, but she was trying to rally, or at the very least not think about last night when she was surrounded by kids opening their non-Christmas presents. Exasperated by herself and the small instrument in Ikki’s grip, she yet again stared down at the directions. Korra had a rising suspicion they were in fact gibberish. 

“These are useless!! It doesn’t explain how to hold it!” Korra commented, tossing a hand outward, while Ikki crawled over, careful with her new present and studying the booklet too.

“You hold it like a guitar, but higher,” Mako interjected, watching them from his position on the bench.

Korra lifted an eyebrow, a trace of acerbity in her tone. “That’s super helpful with the exhaustive amount of guitar playing I do.”

He frowned at her, crossing his arms. “You forgot I play, didn’t you?”

 _Whoops._ Sheepishly, she peered at him, a little indignance trickling in despite her being technically in the wrong. “Sorry. But if I remember right, someone was always too shy to play in front of me.”

“I wasn’t shy! I was still learning the songs!” He argued, instantly ruffled. They had a knack for that with each other and it was seldom on purpose. 

Seeing a better opportunity and apparently done with their bickering, Ikki patted Korra’s shoulder. The girl then stood up and moved over toward Mako instead, taking the booklet with her. “Can you show me?”

“Yeah, sure.” He said, surprised but willing. The kids, though friendly and outgoing, tended to stick tightly to Korra’s side. 

“What’s this stuff mean?” Ikki asked, pointing to a series of grids and dots as she slid onto the bench beside him with the ukulele. 

“It’s a chord chart. Those are the different chords you can play. The black dots are where your fingers go.” He explained and she handed him the instrument.

“Would you play it?” She asked hopefully. “I wanna hear what it’s supposed to sound like. Please, Mako?”

Golden-brown eyes flicked toward Korra quickly, as he took the ukulele which looked tiny in his hands. She tilted her head at him, shrugged, and lifted an eyebrow not understanding his hesitance. Sighing, he studied the page and strummed out an easy little pattern as if it were nothing. It stunned her, but Ikki was elated, clapped twice.

He gave the ukulele back and helped her adjust the instrument, while the girl snuck admiring little glances up at him under Korra’s curious stare. “And your thumb goes over here.” He adjusted the position of the girl’s finger on the neck. 

“Looks like you’ve been dumped,” Kuvira commented, sipping her coffee. "Again."

Rolling her eyes, Korra tossed herself into the seat beside the woman, smiling to herself as Ikki played something that sounded a lot more like music than anything the two of them had been able to produce. Good…at least the kid would get some enjoyment out of the present.

“Good morning, Asami! Merry Christmas. Did you sleep well?” Korra turned her head as Pema spoke. The older woman was setting a place for the new arrivals. Lightly steaming short stacks of blueberry pancakes were set there waiting. There was a barely detectable deflation in her posture resultant of the distance. 

“Very well, thank you Pema,” Asami answered, and then briefly glanced across the table at Korra. There was a smile offered which she returned immediately, feeling silly for the little flutter in her stomach. God, was that woman attractive and a little giddiness was excusable after the night they shared. She was biting back those memories hard now.

“Sit, eat, please.” Pema gestured to the bench which lined the long wooden table as Rohan hung about her leg, clinging and talking a mile a minute. 

Everyone greeted Asami in chorus as she took her seat, the procession of bowls beginning anew…fruit, whipped cream, nuts, jars of jam, a small pitcher of syrup. All the while Korra tried to keep her disobedient eyes off the woman. Animated conversion erupted in overlapping spurts, filling the room with sound and laughter, and superficial details of each other’s life. There was some discussion of Asami’s car troubles…but Korra was finding it hard to fully invest in the talk for two reasons. One was the effort required to ward off inappropriate thoughts…they were fighting her as animals cornered. The second was the look of low-key panic she kept noticing way back in those green eyes.

Asami hid it well, very well…but Korra thought she’d seen it this morning too when they were chatting in the bedroom. It wasn’t there all the time but came in flashes. A sense, more than anything Asami said or did, that beneath the friendly smiles and politeness…the other woman was slowly crawling out of her skin. It was a feeling that Asami was somehow happy and not at all so at the very same time. None of that was to say she thought the woman didn’t enjoy herself last night or was at all insincere in any way. She didn’t think that, but it made her wonder…became this curiosity burning in her chest when they met eyes. Korra was struck by the desire to know more about it, about this woman, a feeling like she needed to...

It was probably a lot to deal with, all of them and all of this, and not being able to escape it…or maybe being stuck here was reminding Asami she didn’t have much family…or maybe the woman was an introvert who needed to recharge. Whatever the cause, it was there. Korra certainly wasn’t gonna ask about it in front of everyone, but part of her wished they were sitting next to each other. And wasn’t that just a little arrogant? To think her closeness would do anything to help.

“Asami,” Jinora walked over to the woman, a piece of paper in her grip, and placed her hand on Asami’s shoulder. The young teenager’s soft voice was just a bit tentative.

Pausing, Asami put her fork down to turn toward the teenager, smile warmly. “Hi.”

Korra watched them, knowing what was about to transpire and reaching for some coffee. She really hoped this wouldn’t be too much. Asami’s reaction to this was going to determine if she went through with her plan to bake the woman something or not. 

“Our dad told us what happened with your car last night and that you won’t be able to get home for Christmas. I know we don’t do the holidays like you probably do, because Korra and Bolin kind of made up all our traditions, so I hope this is okay!” Smiling gently, Jinora held the paper out. “Meelo and Ikki made you a card.”

Asami took the hand-drawn item, eyes tracing over the front cover, a little wide with shock. All Korra could see were the lasers, but she knew the scope of Meelo’s epic vision. It was a rendition of Pabu and Naga. Things became stranger from their neck down, overly muscled anthropomorphized forms overly in tiger stance, backs together. Her dog was shooting a beam of water from its paw while the ferret shot fire. Naga was wearing a Santa hat and the ferret had a yarmulke on. 

“Meelo drew the front,” Jinora added, almost apologetically.

“Which is the most important part!” He hollered from the other side of Kuvira, stabbing a forkful of pancake, and speaking around it. “Ikki got the easy job! As usual.”

Sighing at her brother, Jinora continued. “Ikki drew the inside and then we all signed it.”

As the card was opened, Korra again knew that Asami was seeing an explosion of color. Snowmen, reindeer, and penguins were floating in a galaxy of hearts and rainbows. Jinora had neatly stenciled _‘Merry Christmas’_ on the inside and run around all morning, getting everyone to sign in a different color crayon. The individual colors were apparently so vital that Jinora had removed the used crayons as she went from person-to-person, to eliminate the possibility of hue duplication. Kuvira, who was in a much better mood than yesterday, had been a surprisingly good sport about it. Her friend chose the silver crayon for no reason she understood. Who used the silver crayon for anything?

“Do you like it?!” Ikki chimed in, strumming her ukulele with excited absentmindedness. 

Asami seemed to come out of her shock over it and gave the kids a radiant smile that reached her eyes. It was a relief to Korra and she would definitely be baking that treat later. “Of course. Thank you all! That was sweet of you and the drawings are beautiful.”

“I think you mean ferocious, lady!” Meelo corrected, pointing his plastic dart gun in the air and firing a foam suction dart off victoriously. It ricocheted off the ceiling and fell into Naga’s fur, the dog gazing at it unconcernedly then ignoring it completely. 

His antics drew a soft laugh from Asami, which Korra suspected was mostly confusion. “Ferocious on the outside, beautiful on the inside.” Ikki beamed at the woman’s words.

She watched cautiously, as he stealthily lifted the dart gun a moment later, tongue poking out as he took aim at his father’s head. Kuvira placed her thumb over the hole at the end of the barrel, giving the boy a stern look. God, why had Bolin bought that for him? Could he not anticipate the mischief?

Jinora handing Asami the book she’d brought over next. “I wanted to give you this too! I thought maybe you could use this since there isn’t really a lot around to do here sometimes.”

Korra knew the book immediately, remembered the hours upon hours Jinora spent with that book at the big picture window in the great room. She’d be sitting on the couch or playing with the younger kids and every so often she’d be dragged over toward the glass. Jinora would show her some new avian discovery or a returning friend. _‘Birds of Montana: A field guide’_ …the gift that kept on giving.

Asami took the worn book, obviously curious. Thumbing through the pages, the woman stopping on a dogeared section and lifted her head to gaze at Jinora.

“I marked the overwintering species. Hopefully, that will help with identification.” The young teenager clarified shyly. Asami gave a bright little smile in response, seeming touched. 

Korra’s eyes bounced over to Tenzin, happily observing the fatherly pride there.

“I saw your kestrel this morning,” Kuvira remarked quietly. “Back fence.”

The teenager’s eyes lit up. “The male? Did you mark it the log?” There was a notebook near the picture window, where the girl tracked her sightings. Kuvira nodded in confirmation. “Thanks!”

“Was he using his box, Kuvira? Did you happen to notice?” Tenzin inquired with adorably pretended nonchalance. He’d built the bird a wooden house a couple of seasons back. He was still a little put out the creature wasn’t using. Korra had seen him check the box more than anyone who was indifferent ever would.

“No.” Her friend answered with a stiff shake of her head and Tenzin’s shoulder’s sagged in defeat. 

“I can help you put in some new wood shavings, daddy. Maybe that’ll help!” Ikki volunteered. She was always good at sensing other people’s sadness, Korra thought and Tenzin seemed grateful. “I hope you get to see him, Asami! He’s so pretty.”

“Boys can’t be pretty!” Meelo disputed, drenching the remains of his pancakes in syrup.

“Yes, they can!” The girl irritably challenged.

Korra didn’t miss the quick dart of Ikki’s eyes toward Mako as he obliviously cut into his breakfast. _Hmm…_ she’d never thought of him as pretty per se, certainly not when they were dating, but she kind of got it. Both brothers were handsome, but she supposed if she were going to call one pretty…it would be Mako. Of course, there was a much better example of _‘pretty’_ seated too far away… 

“Kids, no arguing at the table.” Pema’s tired interruption ended the mild squabble and broke her out of the stare she hadn’t realized was focused on red lips. A flush of color lit the bridge of her nose. 

“Thank you, again…this was really nice and so thoughtful.” Asami gazed down at her own lap, tucking the card safely inside the book. The woman made sure to look at each of the children in turn. “I wish I had something to give you all back.”

“I’ll take some of your hair!” The boy suggested while everyone stared at him in uncomfortable surprise. 

“Meelo!” Tenzin jumped in, mortified.

“What?” The boy asked with a shrug.

Her mom reached across the table then and gave Asami’s hand a gentle pat. “Tonraq and I would be happy to help with anything you need while you’re here, okay? Don’t hesitate to ask, Asami. We’ll be around for a few more days.”

The rest of breakfast passed uneventfully to idle chatter and the filling of stomachs. There wasn’t a single opportunity Korra could find to move closer to the other woman or to engage in private asides without yelling. How stubborn her thoughts were in returning to Asami no matter which direction she tried to steer them, it was frustrating her. She knew she absolutely needed to get out of the house and clear her head, when Mako’s congenial and harmless offer to walk the woman over to the shop after their meal drew a flare of momentary wrath. It was a stupid, temper-born reaction, the likes of which had caused her trouble too many times in the past and she needed to get ahold of herself.

Everyone split off at that point. Kuvira disappeared to teach Jinora pool…the teenager apparently wanting to play it with her boyfriend later. Korra’s parents left to go ice skating together…a little date, which was cute. And Korra felt undue disappointment, watching Mako and Asami and Bolin trudging off to the garage together, waving at her. With promises of later, the three of them left her alone.

“Thanks for trying to help me before!” She looked up to see Ikki standing there, grabbing her winter boots. 

Grinning at the girl, she shrugged it off. “Sure. Glad, you found someone who knows what they’re doing! So, what’s the plan…building a snowman? Igloo construction?” She questioned wondering why the girl was suiting up.

“I’m gonna help daddy with the kestrel box. I think he’s sad about it.” Ikki answered as she knelt and laced her boots, looking up at Korra with those uniquely colored eyes, a sort of dark hazel that fluctuated between gray and brown. “Hey, how come you changed your clothes this morning?” The inquiry was out of the blue.

Korra shrugged on her jacket and laughed, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I saw you come out of your old room this morning, and you were wearing a different outfit! And you looked so tired…did you have a sleepover with Asami last night or something?” Ikki asked, just as Tenzin rounded the corner, snapping rigidly upright at the overheard question.

Korra’s eyes nearly spilled out of her head, as her gaze whipped back and forth between him and his daughter. She wanted to slap a hand over that girl’s mouth and drag her from the room, then crawl into a hole. Being atrocious at deception, Korra didn’t bother to lie but employed subpar diversionary tactics instead. “Oh, look! There’s your dad. Weren’t you gonna head outside?”

“Ahem. Yes, well…” Tenzin interrupted, now red to his ears. His mortification level was impressive, miraculously surpassing even hers. “Weren’t you uh…planning to go into town this morning, Korra?”

“Right.” She mumbled, scratching her neck while Ikki’s all too curious gaze switched between them suspiciously. “Tenzin…” She started but didn’t finish.

“Daddy, are you okay?”

“Yes, of course, Ikki. Let’s just…see about that bird.” And he marched stiffly outside, boots unlaced and jacket half on as she stood there awkwardly in the foyer recovering.

Ikki turned around on the front porch to wave excitedly. “Bye Korra!! See ya!”

Her face a clumsy smile and bright red cheeks, she waved back, considering whether she needed to have a private chat with that child about what not to say. It wasn’t the first time Ikki had blown her cover.

It took the entirety of the drive into town to calm her heart and banish the humiliation of that interaction. Korra finally found herself fully relaxed about two hours into her baking, the music louder than usual. Happily, she rolled out her puff pastry while the cupcakes cooled and the special treat she’d made for Asami baked. She was feeling happy enough then, that she decided it was time to finally indulge herself with vivid thoughts of last night. Korra was a person who deeply enjoyed revisiting sex, nearly as much as the act itself, mentally replaying particularly enjoyable moments…remembering sounds and sensations. She did not think of hidden sadness in green eyes now. Instead, she recalled that body bared, what it felt like held against her own, the taste of plush lips and soft skin. She’d loved every second of being with Asami, the woman’s sexiness and humor and self-assuredness. If their conversation this morning was any indication, she might get the chance to do that all over again tonight. The only downside to their exploits was how quiet they had to be. She wanted to hear the woman, was intrigued by what an unrestrained version of their time together might sound like. It wasn’t something she’d probably get the chance to explore, but it was fun to imagine. God, she was sure Asami would sound as amazing as she felt…

She knew her face was probably ridiculous, that her mouth and eyes were probably doing all sorts of bizarre things…but there was no Kuvira to roll her eyes, no Mako to shoot her a skeptical look, no Ikki to mortify her in front of Tenzin…not in this place that was hers. From the look on Tenzin’s face, he probably thought she was some kind of…what’s a word he would use for it? Something old-timey…a tramp or… god, a lothario, maybe? She just hoped he wouldn’t say anything to anyone else. That was stupid, she knew he wouldn’t. It was an unfounded fear.

And the smile fell right off her face as she walked the pastry over to chill it. She’d ruined her own fantasizing. A loud thumping knock on the metal door echoed and she wiped her hands hurriedly against the half-apron, jogging over.

Behind it was the Chief of police, an attractive older woman with a persistent seriousness that rivaled Kuvira’s, though it was fiery rather than aggressive. “Oh hey, Lin. Merry Christmas!”

“Hey, kid.” The woman charged inside, throwing her body into a casual lean against the large island in the center of the kitchen. “Merry Christmas.” She added, seemingly as an afterthought. 

Lin was a friend of Tenzin’s from childhood. With the amount of mischief Korra and her friends had gotten into around town when they were young teenagers…they hadn’t always had the most amicable relationship. Over time though, as Korra matured and Lin eased up, they’d grown to like each other.

“Didn’t make donuts this morning, Chief.” She said lightly.

Lin frowned, crossing her arms and resting them atop the dark bomber jacket she always wore on duty. Even so, Korra could tell the older woman wasn’t actually irritated. “That joke never gets any funnier.”

“I’d stop if you didn’t buy one half the time.” The chief stopped in once a week usually. Always got a black coffee and every other time bought a donut.

“Got any coffee?”

She laughed at the timely question. “I can put some on, sure.” 

“No, I’ll make it. Just point me in the right direction.”

“Uh…so…what’s up?” She asked, curious why Lin Beifong of all people, would be showing up at her kitchen on a day she knew it would be closed.

“I saw your car outside.” That explained little. “Want some?” The woman asked, readying the percolator.

“Sure. Just felt like being friendly?” It was more of a prod than a legitimate question. There was no way that was the explanation. 

As the older woman hit the brew button and the hissing started, Lin slammed her hands down on the steel countertop with enough suddenness to make Korra jump. “Look, kid. I don’t usually do this, but I need information.”

Glancing over her shoulder as she scooped buttercream into a round-tipped piping bag, she gave the older woman a confused smirk. “I’m gonna need more to go on than that.”

Lin tossed up her hands briefly, expression serious and brimming with annoyance. “I have to be at Christmas dinner tonight with my family. I can barely stand them, to begin with!! Now Su is flipflopping between biting everyone’s head off and ridiculous dramatics, Bataar Jr. stormed off for god knows what reason and Kuvira’s nowhere to be found and apparently on some Christmas blacklist I didn’t know existed!”

Not wanting to say anything which would breach Kuvira’s trust, Korra’s eyes darted anxiously from the bowl of frosting to the pissed off cop. She was shoved backward into her younger years by Lin’s tirade, overcome by the shrinking sensation of being in trouble with an adult. “…that sucks?”

The older woman’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and then rolled, fingers flicked through the air. “Just give it to me straight. Do I need to find a reason to work tonight?”

“You could come to dinner at Tenzin’s.” The suggestion was a half-serious one. Kuvira and Asami were already taking refuge at the lodge, why not another?

“Oh, that’s _perfect_! I’ll just go to another family's Christmas dinner instead. That’ll calm my sister _right_ down.” The sarcasm was searing, as Lin grabbed a disposable cup and poured the fresh coffee.

Apparently, the woman either didn’t need the skin of her throat or was immune to burns because she was somehow swallowing the scorching liquid unphased. It seemed to dawn on Lin then, that she’d forgotten Korra’s coffee, and another cup was roughly shoved her way.

Setting the full piping bag down, she set to work stuffing another with vanilla frosting, rather than chocolate. She decided to employ evasive tactics for the second time today, uncomfortable discussions were apparently hellbent on chasing her. “You still should stop by. Kya and Bumi are gonna there!”

A hand was tossed in the air yet again. “So what?”

“Soooo…I thought you might wanna see them?” She attempted hopefully.

“Stop avoiding the question.” _Damn it._

Her anxiousness turned in on itself when she felt cornered, become defensiveness. “Why are you asking me what’s going on anyway?! Why don’t you ask Su?”

“I’m not asking you what’s going on!” Lin corrected immediately and forcefully. “I’m asking you if I need to find an excuse not to be there tonight. And Su’s _impossible_ right now. It would be a waste of time to talk to her.”

It was hard to argue with because if there was one thing Korra knew about the Beifong women, it was that they were all strong personalities. Then again, so was she, but she didn’t have siblings to incite her fury. Korra imagined Lin and Su had some memorable fights over the years.

“All I know is this traces back to Kuvira.” The Chief said, sounding every bit the cop she was, as though this were some case to be solved. Lin sighed heavily, before taking another steaming sip.

Korra sighed back, rubbed a little raw by the situation. “Lin, I’m not gonna say anything. You know Kuvira’s my friend, but whatever happened, I’m sure it’s not one person’s fault.”

The reaction was firm and direct. “Did I _say_ it was or ask you to spill her business?! The fact you keep saying things like that tells me you know something, by the way.”

“What’s this about, Lin?” She retorted, not having it. Someone in that family was always mad at Kuvira. Granted her friend gave them near-endless reasons, but she was tired of it. 

Lin stared at her for a few silent moments, investigative gaze fixed and intimidating. “You too?! Why the hell is everyone being so weird when it comes to Kuvira?” That was a question Korra had no intention of answering, but her stiffening, her anxiety over being asked were picked up immediately. Lin grew quiet again, which was never good. “I’m gonna need you to look me in the eye and tell me that what I’m about to say is off the wall.”

She gritted her teeth; temper flaring and this morning was starting to get on her nerves. “I don’t wanna do this.”

“Too bad.” The woman snapped back at her. She glared, meeting those stony eyes which all at once seemed to crumble. Heaving a breath, Lin broke their eye contact, pinching the bridge of her nose, eyebrow twitching. “Just save me a world of trouble and tell me that my married sister is not having an affair with a woman less than half her age, who she took as a child and seems to also be dating her son. Just tell me Su has more sense than that.”

 _Dating her son?_ Kuvira couldn’t be dating him…she would’ve told Korra. “I mean, I don’t think Kuvira’s actually dating Bataar…”

The Chief gaped at her. “ _That’s_ your response?!?”

God, she was terrible at these types of conversations and she tried to lie. “Lin, it’s crazy okay? You’re right, it’s crazy. Su wouldn’t…” And she couldn’t say it. What was the point? The fact Lin knew she was lying was already written on her face.

“You’re still a terrible liar, kid.” Lin scoffed, sighing heavily again. “Where’s Kuvira right now?”

“I don’t know,” Korra said, the words coming easier because at this point they were true. It had been a few hours and her friend could be anywhere.

“Is this why she’s buying up all those abandoned properties around the ranch? Is this some twisted revenge thing against Su that’s eventually gonna blow up? Do I need to take _every_ holiday shift from now on?”

There was an odd pang of hurt as the information registered; that she was caught so unaware. “She’s buying up properties? How does she even have the money?” But even as the words left her mouth, she was fairly sure she knew the answer.

“Dirt-cheap foreclosures.” … _and Su’s son_. Korra felt it in her bones, a discomforting resonance…the same resonance she felt when she thought of Su and Kuvira together. It all hung in the back of her brain, heavy and swinging like a pendulum. “…does Opal know about this?” The atypically gentle question came because Lin and Opal were close, closer than Lin was with her nephews. 

“I don’t think so,” She answered honestly, which she felt shitty about but there was no way she would tell Opal. That was absolutely not her place. She’d long ago accepted that there might be consequences for that choice if the secret ever got out. “Ugh, I’m not saying anything else. Keep me out of this, okay? It’s not my business and I don’t like any of it.”

“Well, we have _that_ in common,” Lin said around a bitter laugh.

Korra closed her eyes, shoving down her frustration, and then walked over to take the treat she’d waffled over making for Asami from the oven. 

“Those smell amazing.” The older woman remarked, suddenly displaying a bit of carefulness in their exchange.

Lin owed her some work in her estimation for ruining her alone time and she knew that the woman, despite her hardness, was an adept baker herself. "If you're gonna corner me, you could help me frost."

A gray eyebrow raised. “Are they for Tenzin’s kids?”

“Yup.”

“Fine.” The woman said because Lin had a soft spot for those kids too. “Give me a piping bag. So, what are those?” Lin indicated the treat with her chin.

“Bouchons.” She answered hesitantly.

There were things she baked on her own, more adventurous things, more playful things. She’d done it all the time years ago, but things were different now. Often, she considered featuring them on a trial basis, but there was a loud voice in her mind that insisted her own inventions wouldn’t sell, that she needed to get her head out of the clouds. The justifications rotated…that the flavors were too out there, that this wasn’t the environment for anything but classics, that her client base was too small for anything that wasn’t a guarantee. What made her want to share something so her own with Asami, she wasn’t sure.

“…is that lavender?” Lin asked, voice even now as she scented the air.

“Yeah, I made an extra to sample just in case they’re terrible.” Grabbing some confidence from down in toes, Korra made an offer. It was born mostly from a desire to reassure herself that the older woman wouldn’t spit it out on the floor, before scraping her tongue raw. “Try a little of this one, but the rest are for…someone else.” Lin watched her after she said this, understanding the implication but asking nothing. “I’ll grab the cupcakes. Wanna do the chocolate ones?”

“Hey, uh…” Lin started as Korra walked the tray over. “Look, kid. I’m sorry I…” The words stopped as the older woman tasted a bit of the Bouchon she’d pushed over toward her. “Christ, start selling these so I can buy something other than your crullers. Anyway, sorry I put you in that position. It wasn’t what I meant to do when I came here. I just can’t believe Su would…oh, forget it. Of course, I can. The point is… I’m sorry.”

The apology was clearly Lin’s version of heartfelt and she nodded. “I get it.” That was all she offered back. “It’s a mess.”

“You’re telling me.” The police chief bemoaned, taking another small piece of the pastry. “When is Mako gonna come join the force? I could use a hand.”

Her ex had aspirations of becoming a policeman, but the family garage ate those dreams right up. “He’s running his family’s garage still.”

“That’s too bad. I thought that meathead cousin of his was gonna help out?” The brother’s cousin Tu was supposed to come on board and help, but she didn’t really know what happened with that. 

“I think we all did. God, I made way too many of these.” Korra’s eyes traced over the scores of cupcakes. Why did she make four dozen? She was too used to making larger batches. “Take some back with you, otherwise Bolin, Meelo, and my dad will eat themselves sick.”

Lin nodded to herself. “Maybe I will.”

Korra made her way home an hour or so later, still rattled by her conversation with Lin, ultimately by the fact that Kuvira had not mentioned any purchase of property to her. She wouldn’t have assumed much about it, except that it seemed deliberately omitted and thusly suspicious. She was also irritated with herself for being inadvertently drawn into Beifong family drama. When arriving at the bakery, she was really hoping to just have a moment to relive something thoroughly enjoyable, to bask in the reality of Asami and what they’d done, to lose herself in memories and an activity she loved, but her moments had been too sparing for her taste. As she drove, she let herself think of Asami again with no possibility of interruption…on the vision of those gorgeous green eyes staring up at her as she straddled the woman’s lap.

Her reminiscing carried her on a cloud all through her drive home, through changing her clothes, through stopping up at Asami’s room to find it empty and unlocked, leaving the baked goods on the desk there. It was halfway through her run with Kuvira before she was finally forced from her reverie.

“I swear if you don’t stop with that dopey smile you’ve had on since breakfast, I’m going to shove you into one of these snowbanks.” Her friend commented, quickening their pace.

And her mind left Asami alone again, her and Kuvira pushing each other with adjustments to their speed, challenging each other as they tended to. Korra, unfortunately, returned to her conversation with Lin then and she wondered if asking her friend about it now was a good idea. It probably wasn’t. They had dinner to get through and Kuvira was in a better mood. She didn’t wanna screw up either of those things and she had a better plan for after dinner, so she pushed down her itchiness to know. She was struck by a bizarre thought when a burst of speed cleared her mind. That if Kuvira had to fall in love with one of the older Beifong women, why couldn’t it have been Lin? It still would’ve stunned her, but things would’ve at least had a prayer of working out for the two of them. Although she had no idea if Lin liked women too, she wouldn’t be surprised either way. It would’ve even been fine, a mental adjustment, but fine if Kuvira had fallen for Bataar Jr. prior to starting anything with Su.

None of that had happened though and as she said to Lin, this was a mess.

Her brain then decided to drum up a brief exchange from breakfast… _pretty boys…_ the phrase echoed. Her eyes were drawn to her friend again and landed on Kuvira’s jawline. If there were pretty boys, then there conversely had to be handsome girls. It hit her that she was running beside one. God, she might get slapped if she ever said that out loud, but it wasn’t meant to be anything derogatory. She’d never met another woman who she thought better fit the word…not masculine…but really goddamn handsome. And maybe she was going a smidge crazy, bottled tension from reminiscing on Asami, shaping her odd musings.

“You seem less pissed off today.” She said because she didn’t have any interest in continuing to analyze female handsomeness or which Beifong Kuvira should be dating. The best decision would’ve been none.

“I feel less pissed off today.” Her friend answered, exhales opaque in the cold air.

“Did…anything happen?” She asked cautiously, testing the waters. 

“Bataar stopped by late last night. We went for a drive.” That was news to her, but she’d been otherwise occupied. “We’re pooling resources to buy some of the properties that have foreclosed. We were thinking of trying some sort of a co-op situation. Bring some of the established people back by offering loans.” And each feeling she’d buried from her conversation with Lin, from every conversation she’d had with Kuvira about Su…it came bubbling back up. 

Korra felt ripe with unease over the whole situation, though ostensibly it sounded like a good idea. “You think that’ll help?”

“It’s better than doing nothing,” Kuvira answered coolly. “And Su’s not interested in helping.”

“Right.” She said, aggravation leaking around the word. That last comment, the hurt there, it was a large part of the reason this made her so agitated.

The rest of their run was fairly quiet. She went harder than she usually did, Kuvira throwing curious side glances at her the entire time, keeping pace but saying nothing. As they rounded the corner home, she noticed the light on in the brother’s garage still and decided she’d peek in and see if Asami was there. She peeled off from her friend as they slowed to a walk, told her she’d meet her inside later. Kuvira only nodded and watched her with an unconcerned but aware gaze before heading back to the house.

Now that she had a second to breathe, she found herself close to praying that Asami was in that concrete building. She wanted that sweet and uncomplicated something between them. Even if Mako was there, maybe she could just snag a little taste of it. 

She dabbed at her face with the sleeves of her shirt and strolled through the rear door of Bender Brother’s towing. Korra was met with classic rock playing softly from the paint and oil splattered ancient boombox in the corner. It was Mako’s music genre of choice while he worked. Over the lift, she was surprised to see the old red Satomobile the brother’s had from their dad instead of whatever car Asami owned. A pair of legs, one bent and the other extended, were sticking out draped in those gray coveralls the boys wore. The creeper was slid almost entirely beneath the undercarriage. It took her a minute to recognize the boots were definitely not either Bolin or Mako’s, the feet too small.

Leaning her body casually against the wall, Korra watched, hope building as the creeper shifted.

Asami used her feet to walk herself out from under the vehicle. The woman didn’t notice her over the music and lifted herself up on her feet walking to the worktable in the corner. Grabbing a wrench in her gloved hands, Asami tossed it in the air and caught it, as she headed back to the car. Korra’s heart sped at the visual presented, at the luck of finding the woman alone…that she might just get that moment she’d been wanting.

The coveralls hung very loose on Asami, the upper portion undone and folded over and tied at her waist tightly, sleeves dangling. A light tank top covered her torso and dark hair was tied back loose and wavy. Korra noted the grease marks on her exposed arms, one on her chin and another on her forehead.

This was a whole new look, and she was absolutely not going to argue with any aspect of it. 

“Hey!” She tossed out loudly, the notion that she’d been observing for a skosh too long trickling in. Those eyes snapped up, widening before they relaxed and Asami graced her with a beautiful smile. Walking over to the radio, the woman shut it off completely.

“Hi, Korra! Just give me a second and I’ll wrap up.”

“I can hang out here if you wanna do this for a bit longer.” She offered quickly. “You look like you’re in the middle of something.”

“You sure you don’t mind?”

Korra was one hundred percent certain she didn’t mind. “Definitely.”

She sprung up backward, sitting atop the workbench, kicking her feet restlessly in the air as Asami switched to working under the hood. Korra had a feeling it was a deliberate decision…so they could talk, but she didn’t ask, just allowed herself a private little spark of happiness that she felt goofy over when it passed. “So, is this one of the cars your dad designed?”

Turning the inquiry over in her mind, Asami paused in her work. “Partly. I think this was a tweak of his original design.”

Korra knew from their prior conversations the woman worked with Satomobiles still, knew how to fix cars. Watching Asami, she got the distinct impression that her level of proficiency in automotive repair was beyond Mako’s. Something close to the experience of watching a professional athlete in their sport, where mastery was obvious from movement alone. 

“You said you do some engineering on the new versions of these or something? Is that what you do for whoever makes these?” She questioned.

“Future Industries makes them. And when I can, yes, but I’m actually the CEO and majority shareholder, so technically…” The tone was light and factual, before this odd pause she didn’t understand. “I own and run the company.”

Korra felt her brain shut off for a moment at the new information, rebooting. “Holy crap, Asami! You own a whole company?” 

With that same matter-of-factness, the woman continued speaking as she labored near the engine. “Not the whole company, no.”

“Right, just the majority of it.” Gently mocking, Korra shook her head, still wide-eyed and full of disbelief. She couldn’t comprehend what that would even be like, running an entire company. Her tiny kitchen had a large enough administrative requirement to exhaust her organizational resources. “That’s pretty incredible.”

“Not really.” Asami dismissed, frowning slightly and glancing up. “Your friend was right in some ways. I did walk into this. I’m not saying I didn’t work for any of it, but I’m an only child and it was always the plan for me to succeed my father.” Sighing, the woman’s voice softened. “It wasn’t supposed to happen this soon. The timeline was…prematurely accelerated.”

She remembered the night before, Kuvira’s little digs…how Asami only acknowledged her father in the past tense. “Kuvira was being a jerk. Right or not, she didn’t have to say it that way.”

There was a soft cluck of Asami’s tongue, as her eyes scanned the engine. “Why don’t we talk about something a little lighter?”

The comment hit, dug in a little, even though Korra could tell it wasn’t intended to. The last thing she wanted was to create another awkward conversation for herself today, especially with the person she most wanted to talk to. “Sure, yeah.”

It must’ve been obvious in her voice, because Asami gazed up then, studied her with a gentle look, apology in those hypnotizingly green eyes. “I don’t wanna put a damper on tonight. It’s not the happiest topic.”

“Makes sense.” Korra tried to brush it off again, embarrassed at being so transparent, which was pointless really. Her emotions had shone brightly on her sleeve since she was a child. “So, what are you doing with this old rustbucket? Mako could never get it working after it died.”

“Rustbucket?!” The woman bristled, eying her critically as she bent over the hood, half a smile on her pretty face. “This happens to be a ’78 F-class turbo, one of our best models and the rust is thankfully superficial.”

“Aaand that means nothing to me.” Asami rolled her eyes, smirking at the comment. “Wanna tell me what you’re doing?” Korra asked.

A delicate eyebrow arched at her and the amused woman regarded her doubtfully. “If that meant nothing to you, I’d probably skip the tutorial on vintage Satomobile repair. It might bore you to death.”

Honesty was natural for her and it was what she wanted between them. “If I get to watch you work on the car some more, I’ll take it.”

It earned her a steadier gaze, one filled with interested curiosity and a touch of incredulity. Korra grinned, channeling her nervousness into the squeezing grip on the worktable.

“It was mostly that wrench toss when I came in.” She started. “Mechanic Asami is um…” Making sure to hold those eyes, she dipped her head slightly, only glancing up as she finished. “Kinda hot.”

There was the faintest blush on those pale cheeks before a more composed expression took its place. “The borrowed coveralls do it for you? I’m surprised.” Tucking a strand of long bangs behind her ear, Asami glanced at her quickly, a playful little smile on her lips. “‘Mechanic Asami’ is not my most popular model.”

“Really?!” Korra found it hard to imagine anyone wouldn’t like this. “What is then?”

Shrugging, the woman leaned into the hood further, reaching around with concentration furrowing her brow as she worked on something Korra unsurprisingly couldn’t identify. “I guess if I had to pick what gets the most consistent positive response…” A light grunt of effort and Asami apparently found whatever she was looking for. “…evening wear maybe?”

She laughed. “Evening wear Asami, huh?” There was no question in her mind the woman was probably stunning dressed up for a night out, but she still liked this…a lot. “Have I seen her? Did your initial outfit count?”

Catching her lip in her teeth, the woman closed one eye, reaching deep into the car’s innards. “No.” Asami then straightened up, eyes studying some small component held in her hand before glancing over at her. “I would’ve spent more time on my hair and makeup…worn something nicer.” Korra was floored that dress wasn’t up to evening wear standards. It was classier than anything she owned. “I think polling is less favorable whenever oil stains and a ponytail are involved.” The comment was followed by the gloves being slipped off.

“Who are you polling?! ‘Cause they’re idiots,” Korra answered confidently, as Asami turned to face her, resting against the closed front door of the car. The woman tossed the little metal piece she’s pulled from the car up in the air, before catching it. Green eyes flowed over her briefly, expression in them unidentifiable, before lifting to meet hers.

“Were you working out?” The woman questioned. Under the scrutiny, Korra looked down at her joggers, half-zip, and sneakers, kicking them where they dangled.

“I went for a run with Kuvira. Wanted to get one in before dinner.” It didn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t overeat, but it did guarantee she’d feel a little less guilty about it later.

“Mm. Probably a smart choice. How’d the baking prep go?” Asami questioned, still holding her eyes with an intensity that made Korra want to leap from the tabletop and onto her. She had difficulty discerning if the woman was doing any of it deliberately. 

“Good.” The answer was quick and mindless before she colored it with a silly joke. “Made some Christmas cupcakes for the kids with the police chief. Typical stuff.”

Closed mouthed and through her nose, Asami’s escaping laugh was more of a soft hum. “The police chief has a side hustle in your bakery?”

“Unpaid.”

A skeptical look. “Sounds like unfair employment practice to me.”

“I’ll take it under advisement Miss CEO Business Owner.” Korra grinned, but beneath it she was half-annoyed and half-gratified that this woman managed to be both gorgeous and funny with no effort at all. She could admit she was maybe, possibly, definitely a little smitten.

“That’s quite a nickname.”

Rubbing at the base of her neck, at the small collection of hairs that had come loose from her short ponytail, Korra puffed air from her nostrils. “I um…baked something for you. Just a present I left up on the desk in your room. I don’t know why I chose such a specific flavor, but they’re these little butter cakes with some lavender in them. Kinda like a tea type flavor. I don’t know, I like them, but they might’ve been a mistake.”

Asami watched her for a few seconds, brows knitting together and lip held between her teeth. “That sales pitch really does need work, Korra.” She said finally and that was probably the truth. “I’ve said it before, but you’ve all been so nice. I like floral things and you’re really sweet to even think of me. I’ll have to see if I can think of something I could give you in return.” The last part was delivered with a softened tone, deeper. The possible suggestiveness there pricked Korra’s ears and pinked her cheeks.

“I uh…” The last syllable disintegrated into a rough chuckle. “Hey, so where’s Mako at?”

Cocking her head, Asami turned away and gathered a few of the hand tools scattered around “He went to go make some coffees back at the lodge. He said something about needing to talk to Bolin too. I’m not sure why he hasn’t come back yet. We’ve been working on his dad’s car together most of the day.” An unwelcome tickle of jealousy emerged, and she stuffed it down. The woman walked the tools over to where Korra was seated, storing them in Mako’s toolbox. “The F-classes from the mid-seventies to mid-eighties are finicky, but they’re one of my favorites to work on.” There was a smile then, a glance which she made sure to return fully.

“I can tell. You look pretty happy.” She pointed out.

Asami nodded and then cleared space beside her. The woman hopped up onto the table herself, their hips just shy of brushing.

“It’s been great to get my hands on one again. I haven’t in years. It felt amazing, honestly.” Korra smiled at both the sincerity there and the expression of peaceful contentedness on the other woman’s face. There wasn’t a trace of that hidden sadness this time. “Did you come over here looking for Mako?” Asami asked, looking at the floor and folding hands into her lap.

Korra stretched her arms out behind her, leaning back on them. “Nah, just being nosey. I thought you were gonna work on your own car?”

“That didn’t take long. It was pretty much exactly what I thought. We couldn’t do much without a part. Then Mako mentioned his dad’s car. I think the two of us can get her running again no problem. She just needs some love and attention.”

Korra scoffed light-hearted and happy to find the tension she’d been carrying evaporating in their banter. “Didn’t realize the car was a girl.”

With a wry smile, Asami regarded her. “All cars are girls, Korra.”

“Well, that explains why they’re complicated!” Their eyes darted up to see Bolin strolling in from the backdoor. 

“Hey, Bo!” She tossed out.

He jogged over to them. “So, glad I found you both! I got messenger boy duties! Couple things…” He drummed his fingers against each other, where they hovered in front of his chest. “Senna and Pema sent me over to tell you two not to be late for dinner! Mako said he’d leave your coffee in the kitchen, Asami...he got stolen by Ikki for ukulele time. I wanted to say bye in case I don’t see you before I head off to Opal’s parents. And…” She raised both her eyebrows at him expectantly. “Can you make sure to bring Pabs a little turkey snack when you bring Naga some, Korr?!”

There were always scraps on holidays for the furry family members. “Sure, I’ll make Pabu a mini plate.”

“Let’s see…what else, what else…oh! Bumi and Kya just got here and that’s about...Woah!” The car over the unraised lift caught his eyes. They blew open comically. “Asami!! Were you working on dad’s car?!?!” She nodded. “A real-life Sato working on our Satomobile! Hey, uh…do you think you could show me some stuff with it tomorrow? You know…if you have a minute or whatever. Totally cool if you don’t.” He rambled with a mix of hopefulness and self-consciousness.

Did Bolin wanna learn how to do more of the repairs? Korra didn’t think he’d ever mentioned that to Mako. The brothers were pretty supportive of each other, and she was sure Mako would be open to it…

Asami sent him a gracious smile. “I’d love to.”

“I can help her clean up.” The offer was mostly selfish. She wanted another few moments alone with the woman before the dinner mayhem ensued, but she also knew Bolin was probably already running late to meet his girlfriend.

“Yeah, Opal’s gonna kill me if I don’t get in the shower in the next ten minutes!” He pulled her into a hug quickly, which she returned. Then after a weird hesitant wiggle in front of Asami, he drew her into one too. The woman laughed and returned it. “You two are the best!” Throwing finger guns at them, he ran out, before popping back into the doorframe a second later. “Just flick the lock on the backdoor on your way out?”

“Sure!” Korra yelled back before hanging her head, chewing over what to say now that she was in exactly the position she’d wanted to be. Slowly, her head rotated, blue eyes settling on green. “So…I don’t know how you’re doing with this, but…I’ve been thinking about last night all day, Asami.”

With a soft smile that seemed almost relieved, Asami responded in kind. “Me too.” With a gentle exhale, the woman shook her head. “I’d kiss you right now, but I’m a little dirty.”

Korra grinned. “And I’d kiss you right back, but I’m a little sweaty.”

Pushing at her sneaker with her booted foot, Asami stole a look at her. “I’m not sure I can handle the heat level in this verbal foreplay, Korra.”

She laughed and jumped down to the floor, moving to stand between Asami’s legs, hands on the woman’s knees, feeling emboldened their admissions. “Cards on the table…” She saw Asami’s expression turn worried and wondered what it was the woman thought she’d say. “I don’t care about the dirt if you don’t.”

The woman studied her and then hooked an arm around her neck. She was pulled into a hungry kiss, one that drew a gentle groan from the back of her throat as she grasped the woman’s hips. Those soft lips pressed into hers firmly and she felt it down to her toes. Her fingers dug in, as she pulled Asami right to the edge of the table, her head tipping. It was a deep kiss, one that slowed further still when the tip of a tongue touched hers...and she could kiss this woman for hours. Something about the way their mouths fit together, the way they moved together was so satisfying. When they parted, she missed it immediately…was happy to find Asami’s eyes a little hazy too.

“I guess we should probably head back over before one of the million people next door comes looking for us.” Korra begrudgingly acknowledged.

Asami shocked her by dipping down and stealing another kiss before she hopped off the table. The two of them cleaned up and the coveralls were left folded on the table. All the while fleeting glances similar to last night flew between them. They locked up and walked into the evening together, crisp air stinging their lungs and Korra wondering how on earth she was going to get through dinner. 


	5. The Experimental Generation of Interpersonal Closeness

Sated and sipping wine she’d not told them the arguably exorbitant cost of, Asami was again among the group and on the bench in the lodge’s kitchen. Half-engaged in the lively conversations around her, Asami was doing her best to project outward enjoyment. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel any. She had ample cause, most notably the woman neighboring her. Korra was right there, in a good mood and smelling like what she guessed was an amber-based perfume or lotion. Leaning over the table and talking with Tenzin’s brother and sister, Korra’s hands were flying every which way with the same unselfconsciousness captured in the emotional displays that painted her pretty face. Observing such uninhibited freeness made a smile on Asami’s lips.

She acknowledged that very much like working on cars earlier, Korra’s presence, newness aside, kept her a necessary few steps away from her troubles…helped pry her attention from the churning in her stomach.

Today had been harder than yesterday in terms of the holiday blues. Dealing with Iroh’s more familiar but less personal rich-family Christmas...the focus would've been on impressive gifts and impressive careers and polite talk… _this_ , this was so much harder. The kids with their presents, the family breakfast, siblings playing and fighting, Christmas dinner, the parents and children, the aunts and uncles, the card she was given, that bird watcher’s guide, Korra’s delicious present she couldn't keep from trying before she headed down for the meal…each thing piled atop the other. The experience alternately warmed her heart and made it ache, the opposition highlighting a plague of internal contradictions.

She missed her father and she wished she didn’t. She wanted to be alone and she was glad she wasn’t. She kept having visions, especially after that kiss in the garage, of all the ways Korra could make her forget these things and she knew that was selfish.

That she could still feel so separate with these strangers bending over backward to make her feel welcome, it was starting to grate of her. It felt both impolite and ungrateful, even if these people were not aware of her conflicts.

“Kya reads auras.” Korra clarified to her suddenly, blue eyes searching, not knowing Asami had lost the conversation some time ago.

 _Kya reads auras_. She wasn’t entirely sure what that meant…if it was a reiki thing or a new age thing or a thing she’d never even heard of. 

“I’m not very familiar with that. What does aura reading entail?” Asami asked with sincere curiosity, as her gaze fell on the older woman seated across from them. Offering a smile, she hoped her lack of attention went unnoticed, that her question fit.

It was her tendency when meeting new people in a business setting, to assess them and she found herself unwittingly doing the same with Kya. The woman had a bohemian flair to her, a nurturing presence, but a coyness in her gaze that suggested a potential for something more formidable. A healthy dose of sass perhaps. Not mischievousness like her brother Bumi, who seemed for all his animated joking, a child trapped in a grown man’s body.

The older woman rested her chin on her palm, observing Asami steadily for a moment, eyes shifting toward Korra and then returning to her. “It’s a reading of the energy fields that all living beings produce. They manifest as colors.”

The idea unsettled her, though she tended not to ascribe to such things, that someone might be seeing anything private in an energy cloud hanging around her body.

“Basically you're on a permanent trip.” Kuvira's tone sounded disparaging but turned Kya’s smile to a reprimanding smirk. At that moment, Asami decided it was possible what read as condescending and aggressive to her ears, was in fact Kuvira’s default…those digs from last night aside.

“If only.” The older woman remarked wryly, unperturbed.

It drew a hearty laugh from Korra’s father, a nervous scanning of the children by Tenzin who'd seemed on edge all evening, but pulled an unusual little smile from the stern woman at the table’s end. There was deference to Kya there and Asami noticed Korra grinning over it for unknown reasons.

“What does a reading tell you?” She enquired, attempting to understand.

A slow emerging and knowing smile from Kya begged quite a few additional questions but made her nervous despite the compassion there. “People have them for all sorts of reasons. A reading can help a person recognize things they might not otherwise, can help them work through things. Sometimes healing or cleansing an aura can help. I do my best to guide them through what they need."

“Hey, Kya! Why don't you tell ‘em about that workshop thing you went to!” Bumi announced suddenly and Kya rolled her eyes at him, perhaps how it was said. Asami couldn’t tell, but it suggested some running commentary on the subject.

“It wasn’t a workshop, Bumi.” Kya corrected. “I told you, it was a retreat!”

“Yeah, for complete strangers!” He said laughingly.

“It was about closeness.” Nudging him with her elbow, Kya scolded him good-naturedly, clearly not that bothered by the poking.

“Within a group of strangers?” Tenzin asked, sitting up rigidly and eying his sister sidelong. It was evident to Asami that he deemed his sister’s activities either frivolous or the result of an eccentricity.

“Yes, with strangers, Tenzin. You meditate with strangers all the time! They pay you to come on retreats here,” Tenzin ducked his head slightly, seemingly intimidated by the forceful shift in his sister’s tone. “I’m not totally sure why Bumi thinks it’s so funny, but we were paired off and had to answer a series of personal questions with each other. It was about human connection and offering yourself honestly to another.” Kya continued.

“Some cooky psychologist did a whole study about it!” Bumi interjected, waving his fingers near his ears and making an ‘o’ of his lips.

“I think it sounds really interesting.” Asami offered. Not an exercise she was sure she’d willingly engage in, maybe even the least bit terrifying…but interesting, nonetheless.

“I think so too, Kya.” Senna tossed in her agreement.

Sounding off from the end of the table, Kuvira scooped herself some mashed potatoes, while eying Kya. “It sounds like a nightmare.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do it either.” Mako chimed in, shaking his head.

With her face impassive, Kuvira posed a pointed follow-up. “Why expose yourself like that when there’s nothing to be gained?”

It hit Asami hard that her immediate reaction was to see the reason in such a criticism, to hear the same question presented in her father’s voice. That argument was one he would’ve advanced verbatim. That calculating look in those flat green eyes, like everything in life, was some chess move…it too was eerily familiar. 

Kya didn’t bristle as she had with her brother’s judgment but instead watched the young woman carefully. “Gains are all about perspective.” The counterpoint did not appear to resonate with Kuvira. “Come see me after dessert tonight.” Kya then said, and the young woman reacted with surprise before fixing herself. “I think a cleansing and some energy work might do you good. It’ll help with that attitude anyway, Miss Tough Girl.” Kya added with a playful tone and a more playful wink.

Face frozen, Kuvira stared for another second before a tiny smirk broke across her lips. Asami exchanged the briefest of amused smiles with Korra over the interaction, though she wasn’t entirely sure what if anything it meant. 

Standing on the bench beside Kuvira, Meelo pointed down at the woman. “Yeah! You need a cleansing!”

“Careful.” The low warning was murmured.

“Meelo, sit down.” Pema reprimanded.

And he did with a plop and a startlingly audible fart, that absolutely no one in the room reacted to except Kuvira who was justifiably offended given their proximity. The clicking spring of a toy gun’s trigger echoed as the boy was shot point-blank in the stomach with a foam dart. Meelo appeared to find his punishment hilarious.

“You can do a cleansing on me, Aunt Kya!” Ikki volunteered from beside the older woman, while the girl bounced happily in her seat. 

Smiling affectionately down at Ikki, Kya tapped her nose. “But yours is already perfect!”

“So…” Korra redirected eagerly. “How’d that whole connection thing go?”

“Oh. It was a really beautiful experience, getting to be vulnerable and receiving vulnerability in return,” The woman replied peacefully before a snort to her left made her eyelids flutter in irritation, Zen zapped away. “Bumi, I swear. If you say one more word, I will drag you to the next one!”

“You didn’t invite me to this one! Did you ever think maybe I _wanted_ to go?” The answer was petulant and proud, as he defiantly crossed his arms.

“Why would I?!” Kya said exasperatedly. “You’d have to be serious for five minutes!!!”

Joining in the ribbing, Tenzin jumped onboard. “That _is_ a tall order, Bumi.”

“Haha! About as tall as asking you _not_ to be for five minutes!” The brother shot back snidely, with a brow waggle. 

The rest of dinner and desserts were a procession of laughter, of family and friends joking together, delicious homecooked meals, all the same things that tugged at her. Asami started on her third glass of wine, the alcohol and complex flavor muddling and melting her stress down to a manageable level. Pema took the children to bed soon after and the topics turned more serious. She kept herself within the orbit of several such discussions, cognizant of inserting herself enough for friendliness, still unable to feel fully a part of any of it…but caring less. 

The only downside of the wine’s muting effect was that it left her with the cat-like urge to curl up and sleep in Korra’s lap. That would probably be ill-advised at the present moment, though she did get the sense the woman beside her might allow it. It took a mental slap to refocus on the slice of cheesecake she’d be slowly savoring.

Her mind though was disobedient, borderline belligerent and toddled off toward the garage and the night before, as soon as her attention wavered. And a wine-soaked idea if ever there was one took up residence, growing louder by the minute. Why not start the build, if they were going to have sex later anyway? As Korra grinned at some impossible to believe yarn born from Bumi’s days in the military… amidst Tenzin’s eye rolls and Kya’s open skepticism…Asami adjusted her position. She draped her arm over her own lap beneath the table, hand dangling as she leaned forward, appearing to be listening intently. Carefully, she let the tips of her fingers rest against Korra’s thigh, waiting for a potential rebuke or retreat. Instead, she felt the woman stiffen, saw out of the corner of her eye a light flush on the bridge of a nose.

She was ready to move her hand away until Korra very slowly uncrossed her legs and crossed them again with the opposite leg on top. It pressed that thigh right against her hand and she took advantage, happily surprised. Her fingers traced and caressed lines of firm muscle beneath black jeans. The subtle but evident reactions it evoked…they spurred her on. She had no intention of getting too bold, but the unambiguousness of physical response, the barely perceptible stutter in Korra’s breathing…the uncrossing of those legs entirely, thighs parting to increase the contact…it was a buzzing excitement slowly heating her body. It drove any lingering emotional heaviness further back still. 

“Korra!” The woman jumped almost a mile at the sound of Tenzin’s voice and Asami retracted her hand carefully as her heart leaped into her throat.

“Hi…uh, yeah. What’s up?” The feigned casualness in that voice would’ve been more comical if it weren’t so suspect. Asami tried not to notice the looks surrounding them, one more suspicious than others.

“Weren’t you and Kuvira and Mako going to move over to the rec room? Didn’t you want to show Asami the pool table?”

“You did?” She questioned, eying Korra with confusion and expectation. Why she would need to be shown a billiards table as if were exotic, she wasn’t sure... 

“Nowha-uh…yes?” The answer morphed under the weight of Tenzin’s stare and she followed Korra’s eyes as they darted to the end of the table. There they found the conspicuously empty seats Jinora and her boyfriend previously occupied. Ah, mystery revealed.

“Very subtle, Tenzin,” Kya commented, which drew another chuckle from Tonraq. Korra’s father clapped Tenzin on the back as he made his way over toward the table of desserts for seconds. 

“Why do you want us to spy on your daughter?” Kuvira asked matter-of-factly.

“A father worries Kuvira.” Tonraq supplied, a second slice of pie on his plate and gazing fondly over at Korra, and then pointedly over at Mako for some unknown reason. “It’s his right.”

Asami tried to block her own reaction to his paternal energy, tried to ignore the similar shrinking of Kuvira. Senna smiled in amused frustration at her husband, rubbed Tonraq’s massive forearm briefly, shaking her head at him. It would seem she noticed the same thing Asami did…the withdrawal on Kuvira’s face, the withdrawal she too felt. And had something happened to that woman’s father as well? It seemed so.

Senna addressed Kuvira. “Don’t let him fool you. Tonraq just loves a good shake down.”

The sheer enormity of Korra’s dad struck her again, as it had when he’d hugged her yesterday. She imagined it wouldn’t take much beyond an unimpressed stare to scare off a potential suitor, Tonraq’s warm eyes and warmer laugh aside.

Would she be intimidated? Slightly…not that it was _at all_ relevant.

While the woman beside her belly laughed, Mako keeping his eyes resolutely on the table was not lost on Asami. It was a pretty safe bet that he and Korra must’ve dated at some point…which was fascinating. Kuvira gave a small smirk in response, but there was still discontent graying it.

Chiming in, Kya regarded the young woman. “Don’t you worry about spying anyway, Kuvira. I’m sure those three can handle it. I’ve decided to steal you.”

Well, she guessed that cleansing was indeed happening then.

“I’m taking this with.” Kuvira stoically indicated the rest of a three-thousand-dollar Burgundy, to which the older woman only shrugged unconcernedly.

“We’ll go find Jinora, Tenzin.” Mako volunteered. 

Bumi threw a stiff-arm salute back at the younger man. “Operation _‘frisky business’_ is a go. God speed, soldier.”

“That is _not_ funny.” Tenzin corrected with his face beet red. “Besides, it’s late. Shouldn’t Kai have gone home already?”

Kya was attempting to hold in a smile. “Don’t get him all riled up, Bumi. You know Tenzin’s sensitive.”

The bald man crossed his arms like a child. “I am not sensitive.” 

Korra shook her head at the lot of them, before posing a question to her while rising from the bench. “Feel like busting some unsuspecting teens?” It meant _‘come with me?_ ’ she understood and was more than willing.

She, Mako, and Korra bid the others goodnight and headed off together down the hallway toward the game room with a plate for the pets in tow. They stopped off in the mudroom briefly to give Pabu and Naga their turkey, all the while Mako and Korra bickering back and forth about the trustworthiness of Jinora’s boyfriend. The man was adamant this 'Kai'…she’d momentarily forgotten his name…could be a troublemaker. 

Korra seemed thoroughly unconcerned and said he'd grown up a lot. The woman may have been a touch optimistic about the boy’s intentions, she thought though. Asami could be wrong of course, but in her personal experience, teenage boys had consistent and predictable motivations as far as girls were concerned. Keeping herself out of the discussion, she simply listened and hoped they’d stumble upon nothing too salacious. In the end, Mako and Korra agreed that they’d do what they could to keep Tenzin out of whatever they found provided it wasn't too damning. It wasn’t a particularly promising development when they arrived in the rec room to find it entirely abandoned. 

Well…this was awkward. Mako circled around, inspecting the room before his sharp eyes fell to the still made bedsheets balanced on the arm of the couch.

“I thought you were sleeping down here, Korra.” He commented with his eyes narrowing in confusion.

“I am!” Korra argued unconvincingly, while Asami did her best to seem uninterested. “They’re just…new sheets. I needed new ones ‘cause I used the other ones yesterday.”

And Asami mentally face-palmed. That was a truly terrible explanation. It was quite possible that the others would realize, if they hadn't already at this rate...not that she cared particularly if they did or did not know. Though she would rather Korra's parents didn't find out while she was here...she certainly didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable.

“Listen, Sherlock! If you wanna play detective, why don’t you find Jinora?!” The woman snapped, and she apparently had a short fuse when it came to Mako.

As if on cue, the teenager and her boyfriend wandered in from the cold, via a sliding door looking quite cozy. And how did she get herself into this? Keeping tabs on a teenager as some silent member of a trio of celibacy enforcers? It was not a position she ever expected to find herself in. The young couple froze as soon as they registered them standing there.

“Um, hi!” Jinora offered, putting a little distance between herself and Kai.

“Your dad sent us down here to play pool with guys.” Korra led, leaning against the table with a grin.

“We just went outside for a walk.” Kai started, eyes a little too deliberately innocent, grabbing at the back of his neck with a toothy smile. Were she forced into taking a side over the boy, it would probably be Mako's at this point. 

“Relax. I’m not gonna tell Tenzin.” The man said while maintaining his fixed stare. “But it’s late Kai.”

“Right.” The boy said cautiously, watching Mako. “I should…probably go home?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll drive you.” Asami got the distinct impression Kai would be getting the third degree during that car ride.

He gave his girlfriend a kiss on her cheek, before heading over. “Night, Jinora!”

“Night, Kai! ...text me?” She answered softly, waving at him as Mako marched him out of the room.

Korra and Jinora had a brief exchange over the matter, a warning to be careful which the young woman seemed receptive enough to and seemed responsible besides, while Asami’s eyes wandered about the den-like room. She got the feeling it wasn’t the first time secrets were kept between the younger adults and the kids. It reminded her very much of her interactions with the upperclassman in private school.

Jinora bid them goodnight, heading upstairs and they then took Naga out together, Korra surprising her by sneaking a kiss right before they went back inside. She would’ve deepened it if icy air were not attacking her face and gnawing at her bones. It was a cold that required flexing her hands to warm them when they blessedly left it and returned to the rec room, as the giant animal trotted off, apparently in search of Korra’s father.

They found themselves alone again in the quiet and the want she’d felt at the table, the excitement of shared touch…it crept back in.

“You play?” Korra asked her, swallowing and gesturing to the pool table.

“I do.” That was all she volunteered. And that was not quite what she was hoping would happen next…but she did like a good game, and they hadn’t gotten much of an opportunity to do anything together beyond talk or have sex. Given how smoothly those other activities went, maybe this would fun. 

“Eight-ball?” Korra gathered the balls into the triangle and Asami’s eyes fell to that backside again. She promptly rolled them skyward at herself.

“You can break.” She offered.

Blue eyes lifted from the unusual red baize. “Wanna make it interesting? Twenty bucks?”

“You know,” Smiling, Asami teased gently. “I’m beginning to wonder if you have a gambling problem.”

“Is that a no? I’ll go easy on you if you want.” Korra dared as she selected her cue stick. Picking a slightly longer one, she tossed it toward Asami. 

“Forty.” She challenged back after catching it, walking over to chalk up the cue stick, before nonchalantly issuing a notice. “And I’ll destroy you.”

“Think so? That’s cute, Asami.” That inflated patronizing tone, and that face which was so absurdly confident, she should’ve hated them both, but Asami already felt the anticipation of a good tete-a-tete assembling. There was definitely more smugness in this, more bravado than in their other interactions, but not unenjoyable, especially if Korra was anywhere near as skilled as that flare of ego suggested.

A good break kicked her competitiveness on and Korra was surprisingly adept at the game, much more so that she would’ve predicted given the average skill level of those she played. The woman made her choices decisively and fast where Asami was more methodical in her approach, but it was quickly apparent they were fairly evenly matched. Then the showing off began…Korra sitting up on the edge of the table to shoot…unnecessary flairs interspersed between a nice cushion shot and double…they made her arch her eyebrow, smile despite herself.

Asami was more subtle in her techniques, started by adjusting her stance at the hips for the sole purposes of distraction. It was most assuredly detected, but minimally effective beyond the interested stare it drew. It came down to waiting for a chance at something more technical. The opportunity came for a massé shot, the most flamboyant of all the shots she’d perfected…leaving her with a single stripe. 

The impressed irritation was worth the wait. “Teach me that.”

“Sure. Let me just finish this up.” She winked at Korra, which earned her cross-arms and an entertained glare.

With a sigh, Korra gripped the end of the table, crouching to scope her next move. It was another difficult shot, and the woman managed it with a cocky grin. Still, Korra did not notice the set up it provided. Asami would not have said the win came easy...was not the promised destruction. It was fought for and exceedingly close, but that made it all the more satisfying when she knocked the eight ball into the corner pocket. There was a hint of chagrin though...because she found their game equally as exciting as their play at the dinner table, their kiss in the garage.

“Man, this is an expensive Christmas.” Korra lamented around a chuckle. 

“I don’t want your money. I was joking before.” She responded truthfully.

“Nah. A bet’s a bet.”

That stubbornness required a different tactic, and so with a quick glance to the entryway, she stepped up to the other woman, kissed her as she’d been kissed outside. “I can think of something I’d much rather have instead.”

When they broke apart, Korra’s eyes told her all she needed to know. They split off from one another briefly and there was no great romantic overture when Korra snuck into her room some forty-five minutes later. It was shrugged away shirts and needy kisses and tangled limbs. She pinned Korra to the mattress, hands imbued with a driving insistence that did not exist between them the evening before.

Laughing against her lips, Korra flipped them, pinning Asami and that was fine with her too. Encouraging the advances, she pulled the woman down on top of her, deepening their kisses, arms and legs around the body above her. It was much more challenging to stay quiet this time as they rolled around together…it required hands over her mouth or her face buried in a pillow. The girl’s devotion to breaking her apart, it was the best kind of recompense. That every instance of her coming undone only seemed to throw fuel on that flame, it caught her out to some degree. Asami eventually had to reach down, bring the woman out from between her thighs, and into a breathless kiss. Very much on the edge of losing her last vestiges of control, she had no choice but to halt things and reverse them. Completely letting go was just not an option in their current location, not with how vocal Asami knew she could get. 

On shaky legs, she pulled away from the kiss to shove Korra down. She crawled over the other woman, drinking in that grin and arching a brow in response before avenging herself. That responsiveness, that fog she could bring to bright blue eyes, those clenching eyelids whenever she went especially deep, they were addicting. She took Korra as she’s been taken, in whichever way she wanted. Was pleased to find her enthusiasm similarly reciprocated at every turn. 

It was an hour beyond that when they finally left one another alone, freshened up, and found themselves back in bed together through mutual unspoken agreement. Both women were on their backs and still bare. Korra’s phone had started a fit of vibrations that the woman did her best to ignore until Asami shooed her off toward it.

With Korra hurriedly texting Bolin back over the drama and high-level insanity apparently unfolding at his girlfriend’s house...Asami’s ungracious mind busied itself. The emotions she’d been able to abandon in the thrill of competition or throes of passion resurfaced. She was jerked back toward the conversations with Kya, a scrap of dialogue which had lodged in the back of her thoughts, apparently waiting to seize her brain. The notion of emotional intimacy with a stranger, it’s relation to her current situation…the ways it frightened and intrigued her, all of them circled.

Was this similar, what she was doing with Korra? Could something sexual ultimately be the same as a deep conversation? Some point of connection, tenuous and existing only within this encapsulated period…it was present in either case. And this did feel beautiful to her, perhaps not in the same way that Kya’s experience was. It occurred to her then, that she was thinking about this because she _wanted_ it to be similar. She wanted for sex with a comforting stranger, for flirty conversations to take an equivalent level of bravery…but that was not the truth. Not for her anyway.

Asami could allow Korra to touch her body, kiss it, taste it...without having to reveal herself. Why that thought twisted sorrowfully in her chest, she couldn’t quite say, except for what Korra did to her loneliness. And how was it possible that meeting a person who made her feel less alone, somehow also exacerbated her loneliness? What earthly sense did that make?

She wished not for the first time that her brain had an _'off'_ button, a slumber mode she could turn on at will. Such a thing would drastically improve her sleep habits anyway. Instead, another part of her mind joined the argument uninvited. It sang that keeping their private pains private was the correct course of action. Korra didn’t ask to be saddled with her emotional baggage. That wasn’t what they were to each other. They were two people experiencing mutual attraction, expressing that attraction through teasing and/or sex. There wasn’t anything else to be said about it. 

And yet…that _‘and yet’_ made her want to slam her head against a wall.

She could admit to some yearning, very unwelcome but there, to let this woman know her. Asami had innumerable acquaintances and familiar faces circuiting her life, but few close friends. Whether in boarding school, or the few years when she flitted around the socialite scene or in the workplace now…her story never deviated. She lived her life with others mostly atop the ice, keeping the lake below her own without ever meaning to. Asami was an excellent entertainer, good at putting people at ease, could negotiate and compromise, had no issue speaking her mind or being told the truth…but her interpersonal successes never seemed to translate into anything deeper. Her father was the same way. Though he could be congenial and charismatic at will, she couldn’t recall him ever having taken time with a ‘friend’ who not also a business associate, whose company could not reap benefits. 

Had she missed some clue in the previous partners who turned out to be unfaithful? Had she missed something with Iroh too? He’d waded further into her waters than any other, but they’d still only been able to go so far. Was he just an extremely handsome man that had always been meant for some platonic place in her life? She did want to see him again, not romantically, but she cared for him a great deal. That was unlikely though…remaining friends with an ex, which she really should not be concerning herself with while lying in bed with a beautiful woman.

And it wasn’t particularly helpful to be having these sorts of existential crises in a place full of things she’d never been able to keep, the permanence of family and rooted friendships and abundant realness. There were reminders of the gaps in her life at every turn here. 

She hadn’t even registered Korra putting the phone down until she felt those eyes. They were gazing over at her curiously, dissecting her silence. “What are you thinking about over there?”

Smiling, Asami shook her head, not sure how she would begin to explain if she were so inclined. “Nothing really.”

Dubious, Korra rolled onto her stomach, folding her arms and resting atop them. “Is that like ‘nothing, I don’t wanna talk about it’ or like a general ’nothing specific’?”

The verbal push made her press her lips together, glance over at the woman’s much more fixed gaze. “Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

Korra’s eyes widened, her brow knitting worriedly. “Uh oh, did I screw up something?”

It was impossible not to laugh. That her reticence could be taken for dissatisfaction after what they’d done to one another, how many times Korra had tipped her over the edge…it was a puzzlement. She supposed that insecurities were often immune to logic though. “You think you’re in trouble? What about anything we did could you possibly be in trouble for?” She teased gently.

“I don’t know. I threw you around a little, but you kinda threw me around right back!” The words were accompanied by that signature grin.

“I did.” She agreed, leaning over to kiss the other woman, who seemed surprised but pleased with it. “I was under the impression you liked it as much as I did.” 

“Definitely,” Korra said, stealing a kiss of her own before Asami returned to her back. But she was being studied again, she could still feel it. “I’m not trying to push, but is…everything okay?”

Squeezing Korra’s arm where it lay on the pillow, she tried to be reassuring. “I’m fine, I was just thinking about that retreat Kya mentioned,” Asami answered carefully, testing the waters and observing the reaction with focused eyes, ready for any obvious balking over more serious topics.

“The one where strangers ask each other super personal stuff?” The woman answered, clearly interested.

“Mm.” Asami hummed, feeling her heartbeat in her temples. The nervousness was undue really, but it was powerful.

“Why?”

 _Why?_ It was a fair question. Why was it staying with her to the degree it was? “I guess because…” Maybe only because it was so far outside her realm of experience. “I know I said it was interesting, and it is…but I can’t imagine myself ever doing that with a stranger. It’s hard to know what that would feel like.”

Watching her intently, Korra said nothing nor did she show anything in that usually expressive face. “Not much of sharer?” The girl said finally.

“I guess not.” Asami closed her eyes briefly before words drew them back open.

“Me neither, but I’m game if you are.”

She blinked, sure she’d not heard Korra correctly. “I’m sorry?”

“I bet you could find the study.” The off-hand comment was coupled with a light shrug. “Wanna try it?” Her retreat was immediate and instinctive, but some part of her dug in its heels, not allowing protest. Nonetheless, her discomfort must’ve been obvious. “Or we could have sex again?” Korra suggested lightly, an attempt to diffuse.

“That _is_ very tempting.” She joked back, but her mind was running a mile a minute.

“Not tempting enough, huh?” The response came with a smaller version of that lop-sided smile. “I can literally _see_ your brain going, Asami. It’s really stuck in your head, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” The utterance was a pale representation of her feelings.

“Why don’t you see if you can find it? I mean, why not, right?” Did she want to do this with Korra? To try something more revealing. There was no good reason for her to back down. It was ideal in that if went poorly, they’d be parted soon enough. Besides which, she wasn’t a person who backed down from challenges.

Maybe some structure to the process would help with revelatory discomfort…and that was a depressingly scientific way to think about it. 

Even so, she was already reaching over, dragging her phone from the nightstand, warily searching the internet. It took the exploration of a few different keywords to find what she thought was probably the study in question. The result was actually an article she paid little attention to, but which had a link. Her eyes scanned over the contents of the study, heart irritatingly consistent in its pounding, her throat dry. “Hmm…”

“What?” Korra craned her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen.

“I think the study was called _‘The Experimental Generation of Interpersonal Closeness’"_ It wasn’t the most attractive name. She’d give it that.

“Oo. Sounds sexy.” Korra deadpanned.

Her lips curled upward at the comment, but her mind grew tired as it scanned the protocol. She backed out of the search result, returning to the article which provided a welcomed synopsis and a list of queries for the assigned partners to pose. “I found a condensed version. It lists the questions used. There are three sets. It says they were written on slips and then people picked with their study partner. They both answered each question.”

“So, we maybe speed it up and pick one to ask each other from each set?” The woman beside her suggested, scooting a little closer, close enough that she could feel Korra’s body heat. Asami handed the woman her phone to peruse and then a second or two later, there was sudden tensing against her side. “Uh…did you see the title of this article?”

“No, why?” Scrolling quickly, when she was handed the device back and her face flushed in embarrassment. _‘Can you fall in love with someone by asking these 36 questions_?' Oh no, she wasn’t embarrassed, she was mortified and why did she even bring it up? Her hands smoothed over her hot face to hide it. “Oh my god, Korra. I’m such an idiot. I didn't...”

“Hey, it says it takes 36 questions. I think we could hold it back for three!” The woman said, blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

Biting at her nude lip, Asami glanced inquisitively over, pushing down the heat still coloring her face, unsure what to make of this development. Her emotions over it after the title, over this whole thing…they were hard to define.

“You really wanna do this?” She nearly whispered.

“Sure,” Another shrug. “You pick first.”

With a deep breath, she dipped her toe into the water beneath the ice. “Let’s see… _‘when did you last sing to yourself? To someone else’_ I think we know the answer to that… ‘ _Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die’?!_ There’s a mood setter.”

“For sure…” Korra laughed, apparently taking it as her pick. “Hmm, I feel like if I was gonna die recklessly, it would’ve already happened…so that’s out. God, probably something unexciting and ordinary at this point. But no, I guess I don’t have any secret hunch…sorry. Boring answer.” Puffing air from her nose, Korra shot her a look. “Maybe I should’ve let you pick another.”

Asami smiled, her blood pressure starting to normalize with the first question down. “I think it's just important that the answer is honest."

“So…guess it's my turn, then?”

She passed the phone back to Korra. “Go ahead.”

“Uh…okay. _‘If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?’_ ”

“I guess…” There were many things that came to mind…but one above all else that would’ve created a completely different life for her. Despite there being safer and less emotionally charged answers, there was a single thing she would give anything in her power to alter. “If I could change something about that, I would want my mother to be alive for more of it.”

Korra shrunk a little. “God, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Her quick response was gentle and quiet. “Set two…” She murmured quietly to herself as she scrutinized her options, finding one that looked relatively safe. “ _‘What is the greatest accomplishment in your life?’_ ”

“Ugh. That’s a hard one.” Asami could detect some resistance over the question, which was unexpected. “I think other people would say it was a few of the climbing routes I did. I was the first female to ever do them.”

There didn’t seem to be much pride in the pronouncement and that phrasing...both were intriguing and worrying at once. She would’ve expected some of that braggadocio she saw at the pool table over something so noteworthy. “That’s amazing, Korra. Why would you say ‘other people’? You don’t think it’s an accomplishment?”

“I definitely used to think it was. I don't know, I was a different person a couple of years ago. When I was younger, I had this feeling like I was gonna be the best at something…like it had to happen. I was cocky enough to believe that I just had to find my thing and that would be it. People would see me, get me. You know?” Blue eyes bored into hers, a frown that hardened rather than saddened Korra’s face accompanying it. She nodded, able to understand the sentiment. Though she’d never felt quite that way about being the best, she knew what it felt like to want to be seen. And she’d inadvertently picked quite the question. “When Mako and Bo first took me climbing, it felt right. I thought I found my _thing_ and it felt good that people started to kinda know me. I liked the physical competitive side of it too…I’ve always been good with physical stuff, but eventually things changed.” Korra sighed, before showcasing a smile that seemed like self-indictment. “I thought I was really doing something important, but...I climbed some big rocks and I’m not a guy and…that’s all it feels like to me now.”

That hurt her heart to hear, but she could also relate to having a cloud hang over accomplishments. “Am I allowed another follow-up?”

“Sure,” Korra murmured.

“What changed for you?”

The pause made her wonder if Korra might not answer. “There was an accident on my last climb. I shouldn’t have done it in the first place. It was too reckless, and it messed me up. It’s hard to look back on it objectively at this point, I guess. I don’t really like to think about it anymore and I haven’t climbed since. Anything to do with it feels…tainted? I don’t know. I guess I’m still trying to figure out what to do with it.” Those eyes turned on her again. “Does that make any sense?”

“It makes a lot of sense.” She admitted without elaboration. 

“Hmm…” Korra cleared her throat, glancing away before collecting herself. “My turn, right? Alright, this one sounds harmless. _‘What’s your most treasured memory?’_ ”

That was also a question for which a few divergent answers surfaced, but the feel of the wind on her body was the most powerful of them. “I used to steal my father’s motorcycle all the time in the summer.” The 1970 Triumph Bonneville was one of his prizes and she’d fallen in love with it at first sight. “As soon as I was tall enough, I’d sneak out after dinner to my dad’s workshop and ride it way too fast down the roads by our estate. He probably knew, but never said anything to me, which is surprising because he loved that bike as much as I did. It was before I could legally drive and was my first experience with real speed before I raced.”

The darkness cleared from Korra’s expression, replaced with an infectious scrap of excitement. “You race?”

“Only for fun. Our company has a test track for the racers we build.”

That strange notion of taking this woman for a ride came floating back to Asami, the outlines growing clearer…and she inserted the picture of Korra’s enlivened face into her imaginings. And that happiness, that obvious enjoyment of their conversation made her loathe to stop before she’d said all there was to say on the subject.

“I was always in the workshop where that bike was too…taking things apart, building things, fixing things with my dad. It was my favorite place in the world growing up.”

“Aw. I bet little mechanic Asami was adorable.” The gleam of white teeth peeked through lips, as Korra’s smile widened. “So, he taught you all that stuff?”

“He did. He was a really brilliant man, with both machines and business.” And a surge of regret crested inside her, throwing guarded thoughts forward. “But he turned out to be not such a brilliant father, unfortunately.” And was that too much? “That probably sounded bitter.”

“No parent’s perfect, right? Everyone’s got parent stuff.” The woman answered and Asami knew it was meant to say their discussion was fine, within bounds…but the dismissiveness unintentionally hit a nerve.

“My situation with my father was not your run of the mill parent-child drama.” She clarified, not aggressively but firmly. 

“Sorry...again. Guess I was kinda due for a foot in mouth moment. It’s been a minute.” Korra looked hangdog and that wasn’t what she’d wanted. “…wanna tell me what happened? You don’t have to.”

It was nothing she was ready for or knew how to handle, especially with Korra, given the nature of her father’s failings as a human being. But she didn’t want to close the door on their sharing, so she gave an abbreviated version.

“It’s a really complicated story, but…I ended up finding out that my dad wasn’t the man I thought he was. I don’t know why I didn’t see it in him, but I didn’t. He tried to fix it and I tried to let him, but we were never the same after.” 

She left out the fact that his bigoted beliefs nearly became public, but the board intervened…buried it in quiet settlements and non-disclosure agreements. The board came to her, because as a part of the succession planning, he passed his majority control of the company to her a month before all of that, on her eighteenth birthday. She owned Future Industries when the truth emerged, and her father was merely the CEO at that point. The board asked her to help them remove him and ultimately after hearing those secretly recorded tapes, she didn’t feel as though she had any other choice. Her father confirmed the validity of her decision in a blowout after, in which he justified every wretched thing he’d said by invoking her mother’s senseless murder as justification. _Those people_ …it was the beginning of a series of horrible things he’d said in the same voice that read her bedtime stories, that taught her so much. 

His moral crimes were covered by the lie of planned retirement and Asami assumed his role a full two years before she was intended to and far before she was ready. She, with the guidance of the executive board captained the company over the rubble of her and her father’s shattered relationship…cleaning up his messes and righting his wrongs where she could, while he became a shamed hermit in their family mansion until his death last year. He begged and begged until she saw him, tried to claim he changed, appeared earnest, and gave her advice on how to turn the company in the directions she wanted…but it was impossible not to feel conflicted, not worry she’d been fooled again. The reality was she had to choose to believe in his efforts to better himself...there was no proof. 

And perhaps _‘not your run of the mill parent-child drama’_ was an understatement.

“Hey, listen" Korra interrupted her thoughts. "We can stop. I don't think sometimes...this wasn't supposed to upset you.”

“Korra…” She started, wanting to address the unspoken which lay between them. “It’s kind of impossible to ask someone about their past, with the stipulation that none of it can connect back to their parents. It’s not your fault they’re a minefield.” 

The squeeze to her hand was warm and calming. “Sounds like a lot to deal with.”

“I wish I dealt better with it.” Asami could not say why she responded that way, except that the flood of honesty was still carrying her on its current.

Refocusing, she studied her phone…debating whether this activity was intended to be so rocky, to feel so emotionally taxing. How Kya had described it… _to be vulnerable and be given vulnerability in return_ …the supposition of pleasantness might’ve been foolhardy. In retrospect, Asami could not identify a time where she felt emotionally vulnerable and it was a thoroughly positive experience. 

“Hmm,” The next set were worryingly more interactive than the others before. “Some of these questions are...different.” She offered quietly.

“What do you mean?” Tilting the screen, she allowed Korra to read through them as well. “Yeah, wow. Should we do trust falls after?”

“Seems like a bad idea with only two people.” She smiled at the mental image of one or the other of them laid out on the floor after inevitable failure. Then her eyes fell a single inquiry that triggered an instant and definite aversion. “This one is…a lot.”

“Which one?” Korra asked scotching over closer and she handed her the phone. “… _‘Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met’_.” The woman’s head cocked with thoughtfulness before that little grin made another appearance. “I technically didn’t _just_ meet you. Close enough though, right?”

Asami found herself backpedaling when Korra did not interpret the question as absurd enough for immediate dismissal, but instead thought she was picking. “It’s a bit awkward.” She paused, careful. “Don’t you think?”

With her head on folded arms, Korra watched her again, confusion plain in her eyes. “I don’t know. Seems nicer than the other two questions.” It was unnerving, the way she was being studied. “You’re nervous. What do you think I’m gonna say?”

“I really have no idea, Korra.” Her voice was intentionally light, intentionally stood up as a distraction against the vulnerability she felt. Asami sighed, annoyed with herself for the burgeoning desire for retreat, the need to take a single step backward and shut a door she’d opened. Wasn’t this the entire purpose of the whole exercise?

And truly…what _did_ she think Korra would say? With the nature of the question itself, the answer would either be innocuous or flattering or both. In fact, she could easily hazard a guess over the response. There were very typical and predictable things new people liked about her; comments about her appearance…most often her eyes, her hair, her clothes, her makeup. She was used to such things being at the forefront of others' minds in meeting her. Asami was not unaware of her own attractiveness, nor was she ignorant of the effect it had on new people. It did not escape her attention either that many who met her, those that had preexisting background knowledge, liked her wealth and status as well. She’d be shocked if they admitted as much aloud, but she knew it to be true. Her influence or her looks…they were her strongest draws.

She was certain her professional success and financial situation wasn’t on Korra’s radar though. The woman didn’t seem to really have any idea who Asami was. Her success and her attachment to Future Industries appeared to be refreshingly meaningless factoids, something to be impressed over momentarily.

…Or maybe since their relations were mostly sexual, the themes would run toward the erotic end of the spectrum. That would be interesting to listen to.

“I like that you’re funny.” The list began and Asami felt her forehead wrinkle at the first item, that her anticipations had been so off the mark. The other woman concentrated for a moment before continuing. “Not like goofy funny or mean funny…but dry, quick type funny. I always wanted to be like that.” A quick glance, before Korra went on. “It’s like you’re so smart that you can’t even keep it out of your jokes. I like that you’re confident and capable at the same time... when you fix a car or dish it back to my jackass friend or apparently run a company or somehow deal with this whole mess about your car so gracefully. You can clearly handle yourself. And I like that you have some intensity but whenever you smile there’s still this kindness there too.”

Turning to look at her fully, Korra’s eyes roamed her face, and she felt her anxiousness intensify, warmth blossoming in her chest.

“You seem like a genuinely good person with a good heart, Asami. I think if I met you in passing, like if it were first impression only and that’s all I got…” There was a touch of sadness in the expression Korra wore and she had not a clue what her own face showed. “I would’ve missed out, you know? I would’ve made assumptions. I’m not gonna pretend I know you now, but every time I get to see some little part of you, I like you a little more. So,” Korra sighed deeply, before brightening. “Overall? Pretty easy question.”

The mirth now in the other woman’s features…it was short-lived because Asami was dead silent and caught out completely.

“Was that a crazy answer?” Korra asked with new caution, sheepish.

“No,” Her correction was quick, and she hoped suitably gentle as she touched the woman’s arm. “…I’m just not sure what to say.”

Shrugging again, Korra was atypically subdued in her response…as though she’d been chastised, and it made a patch of guilt in the pit of Asami’s stomach. “As long as it didn’t bother you.”

“It didn’t at all.” She reassured with a smile, leaning over to place a chaste and grateful kiss on Korra’s lips, which seemed to calm the situation. “It seems only fair I answer back.”

And that calm didn’t much last for Korra. “Uh, you totally don’t have to.”

It was a comfort to know she wasn’t the only one rattled by this prospect. “And if I want to?”

Korra swallowed visibly, worrying the pillowcase between her thumb and forefinger. “Okay, yeah.” It was said around a slightly anxious laugh. “God, I kinda get why you were nervous now!”

Inhaling consciously, she tried to find descriptions for the things which were magnetic about Korra’s company. “I like that there are no pretensions when you speak. I like that you only ever seem to be yourself…like you can’t see a reason not to be. I like that it means I don’t really have to guess who you are or whether you’re trying to appear a certain way. I like how real it makes you feel. I like that you’re a little fiery, but underneath it’s obvious that you’re sweet.” There was the tiniest flash of skepticism in the other woman’s face at that…but Asami stood by it. Korra had been unerringly sweet with her. “I like that you can seem tough and caring at the same time, and you’re not uncomfortable being either or both…I like that you’re willing to tell dad jokes. And…” She waffled over whether or not to say the next part, but what point would there be in withholding anything from the already blushing woman across from her now? “Off-topic, but…I like that you didn’t say anything about how I look in your list.”

Korra laughed at the last one, smiling over the rest. “There are a million things I could say about _that_ , but I didn’t think that was what the question was asking.”

She agreed. “I don’t think so either, but some people would’ve said it anyway.”

Staying silent for a moment, Korra then turned onto her back, giving her a grin. “First time I’ve ever scored points for _not_ telling someone how attractive they are.” Asami giggled over the jest, rolling her eyes before Korra spoke again. “So, that was...something.”

Smiling because she was unsure what to do with such a nebulous reaction, she responded in kind. “It _was_ something.”

Korra quirked her lips to the side, poking the pillow and stealing glances. “Something good.”

Her whole body softened at that. “I'd agree."

“Then I’m guessing I still get to stay the night?”

Asami raised an eyebrow at such absurdity. “I love that you keep asking my permission to stay in your own room.”

“Hey! Trying to be a gentleman!” Was the pouty protest.

“Please don’t.” Rolling over and balancing herself above Korra, she gazed down at her. “Adding to my list...I like that you’re not.”

The still grinning woman below smacked her hip lightly over the double meaning there. Asami was brought close, space between them disappearing as she was drawn into a mind-quieting kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> both the article and the study exist and do not belong to me.


	6. Espionage Aura Cleansings and Dangerous Phrasing

For unknown reasons Kuvira had come to the bakery with her this morning, was working away in the corner like an efficient little storm cloud. The industrial space was filled with aggressive rock that spilled from the speakers of her friend’s laptop. Korra had no idea how to classify her friend’s music, but the constant tempo changes and impossible time signatures dizzied Korra’s sleep-deprived mind. In some ways, it was a blessing because there was no point in conversing before she could even think straight. Humans weren’t meant to be awake before the sun. That was the one thing about baking that she wasn’t fond of, the early hours.

Something must’ve happened with Kuvira last night. Korra was ninety percent sure of it. Finding her friend somehow awake and sitting alone downstairs when she left at the ungodly hour she had to was pretty damning evidence. Korra was definitely not pleased that any improvement to her friend’s general disposition had evaporated between yesterday and today, was disappointed by it actually. Maybe stupidly, she was hoping a night with Kya would keep things on a better path. Apparently not. 

Three hours of baking passed with Kuvira on her computer straight-faced and brooding and blaring music as if Korra didn’t exist. Only now that midday was close at hand, was the rock silenced.

Korra checked over the orders she was preparing for pick-up, now the one doing the purposeful ignoring…while Kuvira talked to a client on the phone. Her friend’s business voice was off-putting, especially knowing the reality of who Kuvira was. The woman could sell anything not because she could convince them they needed something like most salesmen, but because she was adept at steering people. Kuvira had a natural and uncanny ability to read others, discern the best ways to push them. She’d fallen victim to it more times than she cared to recall, but they seemed to be passed that…mostly…thank god. Sharp tongue or moodiness aside, Korra much preferred Kuvira without the guise of insincere amity, however convincing it could be at times.

She missed the vertigo-inducing metal jams by comparison. It was a relief when the woman hung up the phone and turned to gaze with disinterest at the boxes and bags waiting on the counter.

“Hey, how was your cleansing?” She risked, growing exhausted with the tension. A conversation was worth a try now that she was awake enough. 

Eyes cast across the table, Kuvira sighed. “Kya’s insane.” 

Rolling her eyes unseen, she counted out half a dozen danishes. “Yeah? Why is that?”

“Do I need to explain the obvious?” Kuvira snarked, her tone carrying an agitation that bordered on anger as she slapped the laptop shut.

“You could just say you don’t wanna talk about it.” Disliking the negativity over Kya and the aggression in equal measure, Korra’s irritation showed. Talking might’ve been a mistake.

Sitting up straight, Kuvira’s slightly puffy eyes narrowed at nothing. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Reaching into a bowl of leftover blueberries, Korra took a handful and frowned. “Okay then.”

An awkward silence descended upon them as she popped the fruit into her mouth, chewing away at her own annoyance. All Korra could think was that she wished she were still in bed with Asami. Spending time with the other woman seemed to be the only thing on her mind since their meeting.

Thoughts of Asami though, they made her feel like a shitty daughter and a shitty friend because Kuvira was clearly going through something this morning, and her parents needed some attention too. Why didn’t she just decide to keep the kitchen closed until her parents left? She should be spending time with her mom and dad, appreciating them. They came all the way down here.

And Kuvira… _Kuvira_. Getting the other woman to talk about her feelings was like pulling teeth and she never knew if she’d get a connection or a savage bite. It felt karmic, like the rations of misplaced blame and aggravated bursts she doled out in her younger years were coming back around. And her parents seemed fine hanging with Tenzin and Pema…and she was making excuses, trying to pretend it wasn’t about wanting to spend as much time with Asami as possible before the woman slipped out of her life. 

God, that woman’s presence was becoming an addiction…like a beautiful little bubble she could hide inside. The most important and comforting dimension of that bubble was that the other woman only knew Korra as she existed now. Asami seemed happy and untroubled with this changed and subdued version of her. Those things listed the previous night in bed, the things Asami claimed to like about her…they made her feel together in a way that only Tenzin’s kids seemed able to provoke. In any case, Korra was glutting herself on that experience like a woman starved. And again, she felt shitty for feeling like being around Asami was just…easy.

The people around her had a right to worry, to want what they knew, to be concerned for the fluctuations they saw. Korra wanted parts of that younger version of herself back too, namely the confidence she used to feel.

Deep thoughts this morning. She blamed Kuvira’s moody rock music. Too much TOOL, too early in the morning. Muffins and danishes went better with mindless pop, something more upbeat. 

“I think it’s some form of hypnosis.” The quiet comment came from her behind her this time as Kuvira refilled a coffee cup.

“…what is?” She asked confusedly, feeling embarrassed over her thoughts a moment before.

“Aura cleansing. The soothing voice, the hand motions…I think Kya hypnotized me. There’s no other explanation.”

Well, this was a completely unexpected direction of discussion she could never have predicted. “No other explanation for what?”

Taking a long sip while staring at the linoleum, Kuvira shook her head. “I don’t feel that type of relaxed. Maybe Kya really fooled herself into believing she’s a healer. That’s how the hypnosis works, I think. It’s conviction-based.”

Korra felt the beginnings of a grin because she thought that willingness was more likely to do with Kuvira’s thing for older women. She was smart enough to keep that to herself. She’d said it once when they’d gone out to a club together some years back and it had _not_ gone down well.

“Conviction-based hypnosis is one theory, sure.” Or maybe Korra was overlooking an obvious answer for the gloominess and agitation. Kuvira could just be severely hungover. “Could’ve also been the amount of wine you drank.”

“That was a miscalculation.” The answer was clipped and sharp. “I should’ve stayed sober.”

“Did you overdo it?”

Kuvira scoffed, sounding genuinely offended which was funny for a girl who she held over a toilet quite a few times in their teenage years. Not that Kuvira hadn’t returned the favor, but still. “No, of course not. I can handle myself.”

“Did it freak you out or something?” Korra certainly could relate to finding any sort of therapy challenging, either emotional or physical, but the energy work was more massage-like. She’d had many an aura healing from Kya and never found it to be a negative experience. Vaguely emotional sometimes, hard to sit still for, but not negative.

Sucking in some air, her friend stared at her pointedly. “I should’ve known better than to let someone do that to me.”

Pausing, she tried to choose her words. “Was it bad? It’s never bothered me.”

“Her motivations must be different with you. You have an established relationship with her, but I don’t, and I underestimated her.” Gazing into the steaming liquid, Kuvira tapped restless fingers against the cup, thoughtful and tense. “Kya was positioning me. The mention of that retreat, I stepped into it. I should’ve said nothing. She wanted me to let my guard down and talk freely. I can’t believe I allowed something like that.” Kuvira’s frustration emanated from her stiff form. “I should’ve seen it coming.”

Korra couldn’t quite hold back her criticism of that mindset. “I think that’s a little paranoid.”

An interested, but cold stare was sent her way. “Then explain her offer to do a cleansing.”

While they saw eye-to-eye often enough, this clearly was not going to be one of those times. “She’s an energy healer and she thought she could help you?”

Kuvira eyed her sidelong and pitying. “That’s naively simplistic. And you didn’t help the situation by falling all over yourself around that girl again. It made me too eager to get away.”

Ignoring the comment with a sigh, she rolled her eyes, biting back the urge to take the bait. “I don’t get what ulterior motive you think Kya would have for getting you to talk to her.”

“She’s friends with Lin, isn’t she?” _Okay,_ so Kuvira apparently thought Kya was some Beifong family spy, which told her that her friend didn’t know the older woman from a hole in the head. Kya was no one’s spy.

“I really think she was just trying to help,” Korra argued, defensiveness rising. 

“Opal texted and then called me shortly after the healing. The timing is too suspicious for coincidence.” Knowing it was in fact coincidental, from her interaction with Lin and text conversation with Bolin…that it had nothing to do with Kye…it made her response difficult to pilot. She didn’t know that Opal had confronted Kuvira though.

“What was Opal’s problem?” She inquired cautiously.

With tired bitterness, Kuvira stared at her, folding her hands on her lap after returning to her seat. “I’m not sure how that’s any of your business. The point is that I clearly told Kya more than I should’ve and she must’ve told one of them.”

“Look,” She gathered herself. “Kya wouldn’t say anything about whatever you told her. She’s not like that.” With a thick swallow, she peered at her friend. “Lin stopped by here yesterday. She already knew something was up and it was because Bataar and Su were fighting all day. Not because of Kya.”

Anger flared expectedly in her friend’s eyes and Korra steeled herself for what was to come. “Lin came by to interrogate you?! What did you say to her!?”

“Nothing and she didn’t come to…”

“I’m sure Opal sent her.” The interruption was accompanied by a side-to-side scanning motion of Kuvira’s eyes, a plot growing there…information sorted.

It was concerning, but the aggravation over Kuvira’s mistrust for everyone was mounting too quickly to combat. “Opal didn’t send her, and Lin also isn’t the type to spy, okay? She came to ask if I thought she should figure out a way to skip out on Christmas dinner. She was gonna pick up a shift because she thinks something is going on with you and Su and Bataar Jr. and she doesn’t wanna be involved in it.” 

Who would want to be involved in that weird, tangled situation if they didn’t have to be? Wisely, Korra decided to hold that back as well. 

Kuvira sneered almost mockingly at her. “You have no sense of loyalty.”

The aggravation turned to affronted anger in a flash. “I have no sense of loyalty?!”

“The second you have an opportunity to gossip, you tell everyone my business. Doesn’t say much for your trustworthiness.”

“Right, ‘cause Lin and I are the biggest gossips in town. We just sit around here running our mouths over donuts and coffee, while Kya is off doing espionage aura cleansings. What is _wrong_ with you?!?” She knew she was losing her temper but calming herself had always been like trying to lasso a tornado. The surging swells of reactivity, they needed to be caught while manageable and she’d missed her window.

“You’ve been checked out for years, Korra. It’s better you stay that way. _Don’t_ try to insert yourself in situations where you have no relevance anymore because you’re bored.” And there it was, the bite and she was sucked right into the eddy, the purposefully chosen clap-back hitting its mark. 

“I’m not inserting myself anywhere!! And I didn’t check out! I’ve been here the whole time!!” She argued, voice rising and the urge for retaliation a fire in her fists. 

“Being a shell of yourself that shows her face around only enough to avoid questions doesn’t count,” They locked eyes and Korra wanted to yell, to kick something…but she just deflated beneath the weight instead. Kuvira waited patiently for the comment to land before continuing, the challenge in her eyes only fading when Korra’s shoulders sunk.

She could feel the remnant heat at the base of her neck and rubbed at her face viciously. She hated fighting with Kuvira, the energy it took was exhausting and she needed to relax. Those words, her insecurities spoken aloud, it was a knife of what felt like truth.

“Your life is just as big a mess.” She grumbled ineffectually, weakly…with creeping self-doubt.

“I won’t apologize for going after what I want. The mess in the Beifong household is not my fault.”

“Whose fault is it then?” 

Kuvira didn’t miss a beat. “Suyin is the one who is married. If she didn’t want this to happen then she should’ve chosen differently. She’d rather take the coward’s way out now and blame me.”

Shaking her head, Korra sorted through the orders on her phone mindlessly, itchy with feeling. “And you blaming her is different how?”

“I have no obligations to violate. I can do what I want.” Again, their eyes met and Kuvira’s were intrusively studying, the smallest flash of hurt there for no reason Korra understood until her friend spoke again. “I don’t know why I expected anything from you. You’re _just_ like everyone else. You barely know her and you think Su is a better person than I am because she’s more pleasant. That makes it easier to swallow if I’m mostly if not solely responsible. You’re letting your emotions get in the way of reason.”

It was so difficult to keep up with the twisting of words, of truths, of motivations. She needed time to process these assertions, to find the accuracy within the manipulation, tease them apart from one another, but there was never any time with Kuvira. Things happened at a pace she couldn’t keep up with and she was always scrambling.

“No, I’m not. But it always takes two people!”

There was a long look, in which those green eyes seemed to reach inside her and she had to ground herself not to glance away. “What about an abusive situation? Is that contributory in your estimation?”

That shocked Korra to silent for a solid minute. “Wait, are you saying Su abused you?”

Kuvira’s facial expression suggested she thought Korra was being obtuse. It didn’t totally relieve the discomfort she felt over the discussion going there at all. It was a strange choice.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m saying that there is a problem with the type of absolutes you’re spouting. Nothing is always true and sometimes things happen to people without provocation.” The woman answered coolly.

“Yeah. I get that, but that’s not what I meant.” Korra corrected.

Despite the truth of what her friend said, Kuvira was an expert provocateur and unless Suyin or Opal was some sort of secret monster, she couldn’t imagine this particular thing was one-sided. That anything in Kuvira’s adult life was one-sided…

“You have to know that some of what you did is on you. You slept with a married woman, Kuvira. Now you have some weird thing you won’t talk about with her son who has feelings for you and who probably doesn’t know you had a thing with his mother. And you’re buying up land around the Beifong ranch with him? I feel like anyone would be mad.”

Balancing her temple on her hand, Kuvira rested fingers across her eyebrow, grimacing. “I tried to get Suyin to help with this town. She insists on putting some ethical spin on abandoning her neighbors, saying that if she takes partial control of the properties that it will make her look as though she’s just trying to expand her empire, that this all about control. It’s just excuses and she’s wrong in this.”

There was a lot to unpack there, but one sentence stuck out. “You’re taking partial control of the properties?”

“It has to be that way until the occupants prove they can manage themselves. It’s written into the loans when they opt-in. I have to safeguard against the possibility that poor management had anything to do with them losing the property in the first place, especially with the returning occupants.”

That sounded…she didn’t know. Korra could see the logic there, but it was an icy sort of logic that made her deeply uncomfortable. “What happens if they default?”

“Then it goes to the lender, as with any default,” Kuvira answered stoically.

About twenty red flags erected themselves in Korra’s head. “How is that anything like a co-op?”

Kuvira’s hand tore away from her temple and flung out, palm open and eyes burning with intense frustration. “Why do you suddenly have an interest in this? Are you miraculously done pretending nothing exists in the world but your own self-pity or did Opal call you too?”

With that second jab, Korra crossed her arms over her chest protectively. “She didn’t call me, but you don’t think this all seems a little threatening? Do you not get why Suyin would be upset? Or why Opal would too?”

“Opal brings it on herself. She can’t see past her own resentment of me. Her mother taking me in meant less time for her and she can’t stand to not have her mother’s full attention every second of every day, even when she doesn’t need it. Opal was fine and I was not, and she feels marginalized by the effort I took. Apparently, I’m stealing her brother now too even though he sought me out.” The mention of Opal, the mention of Bataar Jr., both were colored with strain. “I didn’t ask for the parents or childhood I had, I didn’t ask for the Beifongs to take me in, I didn’t ask for my feelings or Bataar’s. The only things I’ve asked for, Suyin has no interest in giving. And she and Opal want to make this all about the wrongs I’ve done. I know I’m not the easiest person, but that shouldn’t be the issue. This town is falling apart and someone needs to do something. These people are losing their homes, just like my parents did. It should be about _that_ and not about me. They can only ignore what is happening because they already have everything they want…and they don’t even see the luxury in that.”

What Korra felt in hearing these things which were more revealing than Kuvira tended to allow, was the resonant fear and bitterness beneath. Though they clearly did not have the same kind of childhood, there were times in her life where she too clung to the reins with an iron grip knowing she was running headlong into a steel wall. She could also recognize that it made her and Kuvira difficult to root for at times. That fierceness and determination when it was aimed in a questionable direction...it could be hard to stomach.

In her introspection, Korra’s mind retracted and quieted all at once. A sensation of softening began in the center of her chest. It was a sort of empathetic epiphany, as though she could suddenly see things from farther away now. She didn’t think she’d ever fully appreciated the layering in Kuvira’s motivations, how the truths there were driven and twisted by well-disguised and very clearly raw emotions. That maybe the manipulation was actually defense, and the defense was actually pain…

“You have feelings for him, don’t you?” Korra said more to herself than to her friend. 

Nostrils flaring, Kuvira drove her index finger into the marble tabletop. “It makes no difference if I do or don’t. It’s not possible. My association with him is a means to an end.”

“And you think what you’re trying to do with him would help the town?” Already aware the answer was both ‘yes’ and ‘no’ depending on perspective, Korra was curious how it would be responded to.

“Why would I do it, if I didn’t think it would?” Apparently evasively, which was telling in its own right.

She watched her friend for a stretch of time, recalling several instances in which she wanted something to be inarguably the fault of another because the lessons contained therein were not ones she was prepared to learn. Sitting across from her friend, she chewed the inside of her lip before finally deciding to say what she thought was a major contributing factor.

“Maybe ‘cause you’re hurting.” She told Kuvira with a gentleness that wasn’t common between them. 

Her friend’s head turned slowly, jawing shifting and there was a panicked anger brewing, denial in those eyes.

“Korr, I got your…” Bolin shoved open the door with his hip, some supplies he picked up from the post office held in his grip. “Oh, heeeeeey there, Kuvira. Didn’t know you were…” Plopping them on the counter, he nervously adjusted his posture. “Here, hi!”

“Opal clearly said something to you.” The woman sighed, having no time for it. “Say whatever you want to, Bolin.”

“Soooo…you and Bataar, huh?” Stretching his arms behind him, he quirked his lips. “That’s a thing?”

“No,” Kuvira answered harshly. “It’s not.”

“Oh, right, yeah.” Laughing awkwardly, his gaze bounced between them. “Why is everyone so mad about it then?”

“Because they think it might end up happening and your girlfriend and her mother pounce on any excuse to be mad at me.” Yeah, there was way more hurt there than she realized, an ocean of hurt.

But where the answer made Korra sad, she noticed it unexpectedly bristled their usually cheerful friend. “Look, Opal doesn’t want things to be this way with you two. She told me she’s tried to be your friend like a million times when you two were growing up, but you never wanted anything to do with her!”

Kuvira glared at him. “What do you know about it, Bolin? We may have been under the same roof, but Opal and I had very different lives. Your girlfriend doesn’t know me and has never tried to.”

“’Cause she says you push her away every time she does!” He argued passionately, a plea in his voice. He was stuck in a weird place with this, Korra knew. 

“Don’t believe everything she tells you. Despite what she says, I’m not using Bataar.”

Bolin’s face scrunched up and it was clear he didn’t believe Kuvira. “I saw what you texted her and if you care about him, it kinda sent the wrong message.”

Kuvira rolled her eyes violently, standing up from the table, the chair screeching across the linoleum. “What? Did she read them to you?”

“Hey, if you didn’t say you’d go after him just to ‘win’, I don’t think she would’ve shown it to Bata…”

“She showed it to her brother.” The interruption was swift and coupled with an emotionless laugh, but Kuvira’s eyes were not amused. They were a bit wild as the woman grabbed her laptop, shook her head, and charged toward the door.

“Kuvira, wait.” He reached out and their friend shrugged him off harshly, grabbing the keys from the counter and throwing the door open without a word.

It took a second too long to register, but everything clicked when she blinked away the stagger. Korra took off in a full-on run just as the metal door clanked shut.

“Those are my car keys!!!” She shouted, throwing it open. 

When she got outside, Kuvira was already in her vehicle and did not spare a glance in her direction. Thoroughly disregarding Korra’s protestations and slaps to the hood, she peeled out of the parking lot.

“Damn it!” Korra yelled at no one, throwing her hands up as she trudged back inside in absolute disbelief.

Grabbing her phone, she dialed Kuvira, resisting the urge to beat something when it went straight to voicemail.

“Did she…uh…just steal your car in a fit of rage?” The man asked sheepishly.

“Yup. And she shut her phone off!” Gripping the counter, she exhaled her aggravation with tightly clenched eyes. Her downcast head rolled, and Korra looked over at Bolin. The same thing was written on both their faces. How had that spiraled so quickly?

“Think you can give me a ride after the last of these get picked up?” Korra muttered, kicking at the base of the island.

With a frown, he walked over and patted her on the back. “Hey, you don’t need to ask. I’m…just…gonna give Opal a call quick. Let her know…y'know,” Air hissed through his teeth, while Bolin scratched at his head and then scrunched up his face. “Just in case Kuvira...suddenly...shows up or something. Oh, I might be trouble.”

“Go call her.” Korra said, give him a quick sympathetic glance. It probably needed to be done, although she had a strange feeling that Kuvira wasn’t going to the Beifong's. She was surprised by the sting of tears that welled up for a split second. It wasn’t that she was sad really or even upset, more overwhelmed.

She spent most of the time during her pickup window in a haze, thankful for Bolin’s assistance and friendly smile. He was always good for business when he stuck around…charming and affable.

God, what was she supposed to do with any of what had transpired between her and Kuvira this morning? The new information, the reveals, the contentions. She was really worried. Not just about Kuvira, about the entire family, about Lin and Opal, and Su and Bataar too. What a godawful mess...one which somehow seemed to grow more chaotic by the day. 

Beneath that though, were the stabs of Kuvira’s criticisms...her disconnectedness the past few years. Did her other friends feel that way? Did they secretly resent her too? Did it hurt so much because it was true? Because it was deserved? Both?

Her sullenness reached a level of obviousness that prompted Bolin to ask after her as she locked the door. In typical fashion, she found herself enveloped in a tight hug not a second later. Korra’s body melted into it subconsciously, desiring comfort and connection with a strength she hadn’t recognized. She felt better in the arms of a friend who she loved like a brother, even though much of her turmoil remained. He did his best to cheer her up on the ride home, which was something he excelled at. By the time they rolled into the lot of the garage, they were both laughing like idiots over nothing. Bolin told her he was going to go and work on the car with Asami, invited her too, but her guilt about her parents had reached critical mass.

What was shared the night before about Asami’s parents, this morning about Kuvira’s dysfunctional familial relationships…the need to see them was undeniable. And so, despite her yearning for the other woman, she jogged over to the lodge in search of her mother or father, trying to call Kuvira one last time on her way over.

It rang once and then a text.

 _“_ _Your car is fine. Stop calling. I’ll bring it back later tonight.”_

Well, okay then. Korra guessed she’d just get her car back whenever…but the sour thought hardly mattered right now. Honestly, the car was pretty far back in her mind. She stood alone on the porch, tightening her corners before walking through the big wooden door. as soon as she crossed the threshold, kicked her shoes and socks off an eager dog and a rambunctious child continued the decompression Bolin had started. Rohan came tearing past the front desk, as Naga circled her legs restlessly. She knelt to hug her dog before snatching the little toddler up in her arms. She loved that one of Tenzin's kids was still young enough for this.

“KORRA!!” Giggling, he kicked his socked feet in the air, flailing and dropping something on the floor that Naga wolfed down immediately.

“Whatcha got there, Mr. Roo? Snacks?” The nickname was one of those, that had evolved far past its origin. It started as Roe, which then became Ro-Ro, which at some point she couldn’t remember became Roo, with optional variations of Rabberoo or Mr. Roo. 

“Aminal crackers!!” He shouted, showing her the few held in his fists.

“Yum!” Smiling down at him, she waggled her eyebrows. “Can I have one?”

“You gotta throw me first!” It was an activity best performed in spaces without large wooden counters and staircases.

“Not in here okay?” Korra pretended to think, tossing just enough to jostle him as he continued laughing. “Hmmm.” The boy started wailing in a sustained ‘Woah’, delighted with the quivering of his voice as she shook him. “How ‘bout you step on my feet and we play the monster game instead. Remember that?”

“Yeah!!” Apparently amenable to the terms, he pushed a cracker toward her lips and she set him down. 

Together they waddled around the entrance, Korra chewing up a tiger-shaped cookie with Rohan standing on top of her feet and doing his most threatening growls. She held him steady by his stretched-out arms as they ambled around the foyer, her mood lightening with every clumsy step. Naga trotted faithfully beside them, ears twitching as the little boy roared and hissed like the adorable weirdo he was.

“What’s going on down here?” Kya remarked, watching them as she floated down the stairs, a smile on her face.

“Imma monster!” He yelled proudly, snarling again and jumping with excitement.

“Very scary.” The older woman teased and Korra winced as he landed on her toes. In his wiggly gregariousness, he slammed down onto her toes a second time. 

“Careful with other people’s bodies buddy.” She murmured through clenched teeth before she gave him a gentle warning glance. 

“Sorry.” He hopped down and looked at her toes, inspecting for boo-boos. His eyes which were near mirrors of Pema’s, studied her feet as his brow crinkled with concern.

Ruffling his hair, she gave him a grin when he looked up. “I’m okay, but thanks for checking on me.”

“Wanna play cars and dinos?” He asked hopefully and before Korra could answer, the older woman walked over to them.

Kya crouched to her nephew’s level. “Hey, I need to talk to Korra for a little bit. Would that be okay?”

“I saw your brother playing up in his room. I bet he’d play cars and dinos with you. Why don’t we go see him?” Pema added, coming around the corner with an arm full of freshly laundered towels. “Come on,” Rohan was instantly by his mom’s side, crawling and clawing his way up the stairs.

Standing together, Kya and Korra listened to the stomping of toddler feet above them with matching smiles.

“Did you need me for something?” She asked the taller woman, who slung an arm around her shoulders, squeezing softly. 

“Just wanted to spend a little time with you before Bumi and I take off tonight. Any interest in some cards?”

“What? Like Tarot?”

Cocking a gray eyebrow, Kya walked toward the Great Room. She followed behind lazily, stretching her arms above her head, as she watched the woman fish a standard deck and small notepad from the junk drawer. “I was thinking Rummy, but if there are questions you’re looking for answers to we could do a reading.”

Did she want a tarot reading? She was pretty sure she had more than enough floating around inside her brain for several nights. A nice game of cards was perfect. “Nah. Rummy sounds good.”

Gracefully, Kya sat on the couch beside a coffee table, tucking her legs beneath her and adjusting her flowy skirt. “Tough morning? You look a little lost.”

Sighing, Korra threw her body onto the couch, spread-legged and slouched. There was no use trying to hide anything from the woman beside her. “Kuvira came with me to the kitchen.”

Nodding, Kya performed a set of riffle and bridge shuffles, the rapid fluttering and soft slaps soothing. It brought back memories of Kya trying to teach her to do that many years ago. Unsurprisingly it ended with an eleven-year-old Korra tossing the cards to the ground after the hundredth failed attempt. She eventually learned, though was never near as good as Kya.

“She’s a tightly wound girl.” The woman said finally, with a note of amusement in her tone. “Is she doing alright?”

“I hope so.” Was all she could bring herself to say, leaving out her missing car and the myriad other topics they’d run through this morning. 

“I’m not sure if Tenzin ever told you, but I had a bit of a hard time when I was your age. I felt like I could never find my path...like everyone was trying to lock me into a life I never wanted. Instead, I locked myself into a life I thought made me free, tried not to need anything or anyone too much.” Kya handed her the freshly shuffled deck and surveyed the carvings in the coffee table, a boreal forest scene visible through the glass top. “But it’s impossible to build any sort of life when your foundation’s sand. Nothing ever feels solid. Anyway, I told Kuvira the same story last night.” Kya offered a brief smile, which she returned. “Maybe you’ll find some use in it. I don’t think she did.”

All of these disclosures, all this openness…they fed her guilt, but a craving for any reassurance became a single question. “Things got better though?”

“They did for me. My mom likes to say that it’s up to each person whether they heal or not. That people have to hit a point where wanting whatever it is to get better outweighs the things that scare them about it. She misses you by the way. Wanna deal first?”

“Uh…sure, yeah. I’ll deal first.” Coming back to herself, Korra began distributing ten cards to each of them. “Tell Katara ‘hi’ for me.”

“I will, but you should come to visit and say it yourself too! Now, I wanna know how you’re really doing,” Kya’s tone was softer now, painful in its familiarity and compassion. “Still the same?”

“A little better.” It was an automatic response.

Kya eyed her skeptically. “Not very convincing. Have you gone climbing again?”

“I’m done with climbing.” She admitted, sadness still firmly ensconced there.

Without judgment, Kya nodded. “As long as you don’t miss it. How’s the bakery gig?”

“It’s going okay. I’m still trying to learn the business side. It doesn’t come naturally to me.” Strategic planning had never been her strong suit. Though she could riff on the fly, long term and big-picture decision making just wasn’t her default.

“Well, you seem to have the baking down. I couldn’t believe those cupcakes.” 

That was nice to hear. “Thanks.”

“So…” Kya began with a lilt in her voice and a distinctly mischievous smile. “You found another place to sleep last night, I noticed. I went to talk with you, but it turned out you weren’t there.”

Coughing into her fist, she felt her eyes pop wide. “Uh-huh…”

Throwing down a triplet of Queens, Kya drew and then sorted the pull into her hand. “We don’t have to talk about it, but whatever you two are to each other,” Glancing over her fan of cards, she spoke as she discarded an eight of clubs Korra planned to take. “It’s giving you a nice glow.”

Shaking her head at the couch fabric, she snagged the card and laid her trio out. “Do auras glow?”

“I actually meant your skin, but she’s doing some interesting things to your aura too. I saw her this morning getting an introductory bird watching lesson from Jinora before she headed over to the garage with the brothers. Do you have a thing for auto mechanics? I’m seeing a pattern.”

Laughing quietly, she found a smile was easy to come by when she thought of Asami. “Her family started the Satomobile line. That’s why she knows about cars. She told me yesterday she’s the CEO and owner of the company that makes them.”

Where she expected impressed, Kya was instead frowning with brows drawn together in concern as they continued the round. “That must be an insane amount of pressure and responsibility to shoulder.” And why had that not really crossed her mind? “Where is the company?”

“Seattle.” She answered, not wanting to think about it much. And the smile faded at their pending separation.

“Do you know when she has to head back?” It was posed with obvious care, but it was a question she’d been trying to avoid.

“Once her car’s fixed. Probably soon.” Their time together was a ticking clock really and Kya might be trying to remind her to be a little cautious with how deep she went. “If you wanna tell me what we’re doing is a bad idea, go ahead.”

Curious, Kya observed her intensely for an unnerving stretch. “Do _you_ think it’s a bad idea?”

“No.” It felt too good to be a bad idea, and that rationalization was one that had gotten her into trouble too many times before.

“You’re a grown woman, Korra. There’s nothing wrong with having something you want to, as long as you’re honest about the experience. Everyone is allowed that. But I might tell you to be a bit more discreet unless you don’t care if everyone knows.”

“I think too many people know already.” She begrudgingly acknowledged as she laid down a meld of four jacks. Her discard left one remaining in her hand.

“Who else?” Kya inquired, gaze narrowing in on the single card in Korra’s grip. 

“Ikki asked me if I had a sleepover with Asami in front of Tenzin, and Mako might’ve noticed. Kuvira just kinda knew from the get-go…and now you.”

Setting down a three-card run of spades after a draw, Kya dropped a bomb. “Your mother knows too.”

“What?!” She sputtered. How was that possible?!

“She asked me if I noticed anything between the two of you, and then asked me for some advice.” The response was nonchalant, but Korra felt anything but. 

“Is she upset?” She asked, half-dreading the answer, before flipping her last card upside down atop the discard pile. “I’m out.”

“Already?” The older woman lamented, counting out her cards with a grimace. “Gimme your score and I’ll shuffle again.”

“Ninety.” Kya rolled her eyes and wrote it down on the small notepad, beside her twenty.

“I’m not sure any parent is thrilled to find out their daughter is having a casual fling with a relative stranger, but I wouldn’t say Senna’s upset.”

Her nose and cheeks were on fire. “God, that’s embarrassing. Why’d she come to you?”

Kya’s head tilted while a tiny little smile tugged at her lips. “I’m guessing because I’m a lesbian. You knew that didn’t you?”

“No,” The blush was back with a vengeance. “Does everyone know that?”

“Pretty much. I’ve been out for a long time. But back to you and Asami…your mom got up early on Christmas morning to help Pema and Naga left the room with her. Your dog gave you away, waiting at Asami’s door and wagging her tail. Senna apparently didn’t think much of it because it was your old room…until she saw you weren’t on the couch.”

“Man!” Korra rubbed at her reddened nose, as Kya finished shuffling and began to deal. “Did she tell my dad?” Her dad knowing was somehow worse.

“I’m not sure. She talked to me because she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. She wanted to know if I thought it reasonable to assume something was going on if you were going into Asami’s room at night. More of a _‘is she supposed to treat it the same as she would if it was Mako’s room you were sneaking into’_ sort of thing.”

“…what did you say?”

Organizing her hand, Kya gave her a knowing look. “Word for word? I said with the looks you were giving each other at dinner, I doubted you were painting each other’s nails.”

A bark of a laugh erupted from Korra. “Wow, subtle.”

“ _Were_ you painting each other’s nails?” The older woman asked with obvious amusement as she helplessly flapped her jaw in response. “I rest my case.”

Unsettled, she posed a question she wasn’t sure if Kya would answer. “Has my mom ever talked to you about me before?”

“About your sexuality?” She nodded, feeling uncomfortable as remembrances of telling her parents flooded in. “Only a few times.”

“Why?! I know my dad wasn’t totally on board at the beginning. I mean he was there for me, but he thought I should try to keep it quiet.” It was a bit of ramble, but she could feel the annoyance rising up beneath her skin.

Her father’s advice back then had felt too much like familial embarrassment. Trapped in emotional sensitivity resultant of coming to terms with herself, she struggled to contain her temper. Like so many other charged scenarios in her life, she reacted stronger than she meant to. Though they’d eventually smoothed things out, she regretted her words to him as much as he professed to regret his to her. 

“That doesn’t surprise me. Old habits die hard and new ones take time.” Kya told her, calm and steady. “We weren’t raised to talk about those sorts of things, but some things have to be talked about. I suppose that’s how I ended up the gay guru of the tribe when I had to move back. With your mom and dad though…” Darker blue eyes met hers before cards were set down. “They came from a good place. They just wanted to protect and support you. It was only that they weren’t sure how.”

Deep down, Korra knew that. Deep down, Korra knew a lot of things, but that did not always alleviate or negate the other complexities in thought or feeling that were attached to them. “Why didn’t they talk to me?”

“Sometimes you have to map things out before you can walk with them, but you understand it was never a lack of acceptance?”

“Yeah,” She murmured. Thoughts of Kuvira and Asami and Mako and Bolin surfaced then…how so many people she knew struggled with things far more scarring where parents were concerned. “I’m pretty lucky to have them.” It was something she’d been feeling quite strongly since last night.

“In that sense, we were both lucky. My family is very supportive too. Doesn’t always happen that way.” And that was a relief to hear because she knew Kya and her siblings, despite the supportiveness, still had conflictions over their parents. It made her feel less ungrateful. 

“Tenzin’s usually my wisdom guy. Guess it must run in the family.” Korra was happy to see her comment touched Kya a little. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything you want.” The older woman inspected her melds, frowning because she was on her way to winning this round as well.

“How’d you know you were gay?” Hoping the inquiry wasn’t too personal, she added some context. “I’m just curious. I don’t get a chance to talk about this stuff much.”

“Everyone’s experience is very individual, but for me…I dated boys like any other teenage girl I knew. I had boyfriends, but it was never much of anything outside of fun. I knew I liked girls too, but it made me a little nervous at first. I can’t really explain why. The curiosity built up over time and after my first kiss with another girl, I pretty much knew.” The retelling was comfortable and did not seem to cause Kya much grief as she shared it. “Then I fell in love for the first time and that really cemented it.”

“Did she feel the same?” Korra asked, curious.

Kya appeared to lose herself in memory, before answering. “I didn’t tell her.”

That was anti-climactic. “Aww, she never knew?”

“Well, she was dating my brother and she’s straight. Kinda threw a wrench in my confessing.” The clarification came with a hint of light-hearted sarcasm and a smirk _._

 _This girl was dating Bumi or Tenzin?!_ That was interesting news, not that Korra knew enough about either of their dating histories for that to mean anything. Except Tenzin dated Lin…

“You know what I like about playing this game with you?” Kya started.

“What?”

Reducing her hand to a single card, Kya eyed her triumphantly. “You almost never hold back your cards. It makes it easier for me to strategize.”

Her next draw made it all for naught though, a trio of aces with a spare to discard. “Maybe, but we did say I’m lucky.” Korra tried not to gloat as she flipped her last card facedown, but her grin made a victorious appearance. “I’m out again.”

“Son of a…” Kya tossed down the single card in her grip, the remaining ace.

“Hey, you two! Korra, honey, I didn’t know you were home! I didn’t see your car.” Her mother’s voice floated in and she turned, her grin turning to a full smile. 

“Your daughter is a card shark.” The older woman complained, counting their respective scores while Korra stood up and scooped her mom up in her arms.

“Hi.” She rested her chin on her mother’s shoulder. “Love you.”

“I love you too, sweetie!” A confused laugh rumbled near her ear, as a gentle hand patted her back. “Were you and Bolin day drinking again?”

Kya lost it on the couch behind her, letting out a hearty chuckle.

“No!” She defended with a pout as she pulled away. “I’m just happy to have you and dad here.” 

“We can start over and deal you in if you want, Senna?” The suggestion from Kya was deceptively self-serving, Korra thought.

“You don’t mind?” Her mother asked, sitting on the couch already.

Taking a seat on the floor across from the two older women, Korra tossed out a little dig. “Not with the hand I just had, she doesn’t.”

Kya slid the deck across the glass. “Hush up and deal.”

As she looked between her mother and Kya, Kuvira’s words returned to her…their intention to hurt inverted as she sat there not wishing things were different or doubting her connections, but wanting instead to check back in...wondering if it could be that simple. She wasn’t much of a meditator, but she tried to recall Tenzin’s instructions on the practice as she passed out the cards. Even if it took conscious decision to be present, it gave her a glimpse. Sitting there, Korra was struck with a wave of gratitude. It wasn’t for anything specific, but it pulsed when she looked at her mother or Kya…was a warm ache surrounding a swirl of thoughts… her father teaching her to swim, making smores with Mako and Bolin, Naga as a puppy, snowball fights with the kids, Tenzin and Pema dancing, sneaking into the drive-in with Kuvira…standing at the top of a cliff or mountain and seeing the world stretched out before her. None of it fixed the things that pained her, but it was possible she needed to start carrying these things with her too. They were worth keeping. 

And then there was the most recent, meeting someone that made her feel the way Asami did. Even if she didn’t get to hold on to it for very long, Kya was right. It was an experience she wanted to have. 

All of this passed through her mind while the three of them played in the peaceful quiet of the great room. Children stomped above them, they exchanged jokes, and Korra’s run of luck paved the road to a solid win. When the game ended, after they chatted for a bit about the goings-on in her hometown, they parted around mid-afternoon. Korra almost went out to the garage to find Asami but the need for sleep was heavying her eyelids. Meandering into the rec room she laid down on the couch, sure she’d feel up to trip over there if she just rested for twenty minutes. Curling up with a half-unfolded bedsheet draped haphazardly over her and Naga hogging too much space, she slipped into slumber all too quickly. 

“Korra?” She was blinking at the ceiling, suddenly awake and dizzy with residual exhaustion. “Hey Naga, have you seen Korra?” Was that Asami whispering…to her dog?

Korra whipped an arm up straight up in the air so it was visible over the back of the couch, just in case this wasn’t a dream.

“Hi.” It was indeed Asami coming around the couch and leaning on the pool table with a gorgeous but slightly hesitant smile on her equally gorgeous face.

“Hey.” Her voice was broken and raspy with dryness.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. You can go back to sleep. Your mom just asked me to see if you were in here. Dinner’s ready. She said she made you some seaweed noodles or something?”

Rubbing at her face and arching her back in a stretch, she forced her eyes open, instantly puzzled by the darkness visible through the windows. “God, what time is it?”

Slipping her phone from her pocket, Asami glanced at the screen before putting it back. “Seven eighteen.”

Korra wasn’t much of a napper and the fact she been asleep for hours shocked her. “What? Really?!”

“With the absurd hour you left this morning, it doesn’t surprise me you needed some sleep.” The woman across from her said gently, something in her green eyes seeming far away.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I was gonna write a note, but then I couldn’t find any paper and I don’t have your phone number to text you.” She rambled, wondering if Asami felt strange over her leaving or them talking the way they did the night before. “I should’ve closed up my shop for the whole week. I don’t know what I was thinking. At least it'll be closed tomorrow and the day after."

Flipping hair away from her neck, Asami spared her a quick glance. Korra watched the impossibly glossy locks, the kind she'd only seen on cartoon princesses, settle. Maybe this _was_ a dream. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. Why don’t you go back to sleep? I’ll tell them you’re taking a nap still.”

Blinking at her feet, she hauled her body into a sitting position, rolling her neck. “Nah. I wanna get up.”

“Hungry?”

That went without question. “Always, but I can’t believe I slept that long. I meant to come say ‘hi’ like three hours ago.” That pulled Asami’s eyes directly to hers, seemed to dull the guardedness there significantly. “There’s no way I’m going back to sleep. I already missed most of the day with you.”

Korra had trouble reading the woman’s expression, not understanding why it faltered. “I have a few business calls I need to make after we eat.”

“No, yeah, sure.” Drawing her leg up, she rested her arm on it, trying to wake fully and fight off embarrassment at the same time. 

“I can be yours after?” The woman suggested softly after another moment.

“Dangerous phrasing there.” Korra retorted, her silly heart speeding up.

With a playful smile that only worsened the dance in her chest, Asami corrected her. “Honest phrasing.”

As her mind finally kicked on, something occurred to her, that she had to tell the woman across from her what she’d learned. “I need to tell you something.” Cryptic, but it definitely got Asami’s attention.

“Is everything alright?”

Puffing out one of her cheeks, Korra sighed through the side of her mouth. It rippled her lips as it left. “Yeah, but a couple of people know about us…what we’re doing, I mean.”

Asami laughed quietly with an unexpected blush covering her cheeks. “I figured it was inevitable. We weren’t that careful. I’ll see you in a few minutes? I need to go wash up.” Korra nodded, sending her a grin and a tiny wave she felt stupid about after the fact. Pushing off the pool table, the woman pulled her phone out again, glancing at her. “What’s your number?”

“Huh? Oh.” The casual request threw her, but she nonetheless recited the digits automatically, watching fingers typing away.

As Asami departed the room, her phone buzzed on the table. With the goofiest smile pulling at her lips Korra reached down, a face-splitting grin emerging as she read the bold text waiting there for her.

_“For tomorrow morning’s note”_


	7. A Persistent and Increasingly Hard to Ignore 28%

A box heavier than she could lift was sitting on the floor of the garage, while Asami internally estimated labor time. If she remained focused, which was seldom an issue, it would barely take her half a day’s work tomorrow to complete the repairs. She could head out by nightfall.

The realization was one that brought several conflicting emotions, the most readily recognizable a twinge of sorrow. There were also prickly patches of stress amassing as related to Future Industries, but thankfully she intended to be gone this long anyway. It wasn’t nearly as extensive a list as it could have been if provisions for her absence had not been made. Besides the ever-mounting collection of projects and items that required addressing at the company, there was the fact that Iroh had called last night. He wanted to stop by in three days to collect his belongings from her apartment in the city and put them in storage before his next deployment. She’d told him his belongings could stay in one of the many empty rooms at her father’s estate, but he said he preferred a clean break. It was hardly something she could argue with. 

He also asked to talk with her before their official parting, which would have been ominous if she didn’t understand immediately it was damage mitigation. They had mutual business friends, both knew the same important people, occasionally overlapped social and political circles. They carried the burden of famous families and money; the plot points of their breakup story needed to match. It was the best method to circumvent awkwardness for both their sakes. Though exhausting to think about, she understood why it was necessary.

 _And Korra_ her brain added. _And Korra._ There was no _‘and Korra’_ really. What was the _‘and’_? Was the _‘and’_ the desire that woke with her this morning to ask Korra if she’d ever come to Seattle? If Korra would let Asami buy her a plane ticket and put her up? It was an offer that begged for reasoning, and she had none to advance which weren’t purely self-interest. She wondered at herself…at the strange turn her life was taking, at her motives as she unpackaged the smaller replacement parts for the old Satomobile.

Asami had met so many people here, a rotating cast of characters. She’d been birdwatching with Jinora at the picture window, chatted with Pema and Senna and Kya over breakfasts, talked snowmobiles with Tonraq, worked in the garage with both brothers, even exchanged not quite pleasantries with a half-sour Kuvira this morning. At least she’d finally been able to corner Tenzin to pay for the room they’d given her, unaccepting of his protests about lack of new linens and turndown service.

The crowd was thinning out since this morning though…like rehearsals for her own parting. Tenzin’s family and siblings left this morning with the kids to head to some winter festival. The lodge was only Korra and her parents, until hours later she’d watched them all depart for the airport. How tightly Senna and Tonraq hugged when she bid them goodbye, how genuinely they seemed to mean it when they told her it was a pleasure to meet her…it tightened her throat.

But the nights that capped these whirlwind days were where her mind kept returning and where the sorrow mostly resided. She and Korra were painting some fleeting glimpse of connection together, one she was sure she’d carry home with her. It seemed almost cruel at times and yet when presented with opportunities to resist, she instead grabbed a shovel and dug them deeper.

Last night was a perfect example. After their intentions to spend time together were devoured by their respective responsibilities, Korra spent the night with her parents, while Asami spent the night resolving issues one of her business partners should’ve been handling. She’d stared at the screen of her phone close to midnight, waffling before finally sending the text that brought them back together. Minutes later Korra was flopping down on the bed beside her. Somehow jokes came first and then they fell into conversation instead of sex. Their eventual decision to continue that personal questions game became hours of talking, mostly reminiscing from their respective teenage years before sleep overtook them.

When she woke this morning, she was surprised to find they’d embraced some time during the night. Korra was spooned in her arms, strands of short hair tickling her chin. As she exhaled, intending to steal another few minutes of sleep, the silliest thought emerged. Listening to the woman’s soft breathing in that warm bed, her mind wandered and calculated. Two questions per person, plus one shared question times two nights, equaled ten questions. Ten questions out of 36 options made somewhere between 25% and 30% percent of the total available inquiries. Maybe 28% if she had to estimate while on the edge of sleep and without a calculator.

 _You’re 28% in love with her._ Her mind had traitorously whispered it and then needlessly elected to focus on how well Korra’s body fit against her own. Damn the title of that article.

That ridiculous thought, much like the memories of their nights together, had not left Asami alone since. When Korra teased her about cuddling with that sexy little grin and those too blue eyes, when Korra texted her to ask if she wanted a coffee twenty minutes ago and approximately two thousand and eight times in between.

All of this was woefully irrelevant anyway because no one fell in love in three days, although the popularity of the _‘love at first sight’_ trope did argue otherwise. But if she accepted that people could fall into a love beyond infatuation quickly, there was also the argument that no one fell in love in percentages.

…or did everyone?

Another calculation was inadvertently performed. That if they did another set of questions together tonight, it would be somewhere around 40%. She frowned at herself. This entire line of thinking was stupid beyond belief. 

The door opened and when she spotted Mako instead of Korra, a percentage of zero flashed through her mind coupled with a sense of relief. Both filled her with guilt as Mako walked over. Maybe he wasn’t _‘zero percent’_ , but an opportunity she’d outgrown before they ever met. And how was that any less insulting? The guilt swelled up again before she swatted it away like so many flies. _That guilt_ …it was just swimming around waiting for something to attach to today. All because she felt an irrational tickle of guilt over wanting this to extend longer than just these few nights.

That was where her relief came from in. She and Mako had the effortless connection of two people with a shared passion. Their talk could be of the emotionless shop variety, where she didn’t need to explore how she felt over it or why. He was a good partner for slipping into work with, his quiet way allowing her to zone out whenever she pleased. She was used to her workdays being filled with men who loved to hear themselves talk, who required ego navigation even if inadvertently. Though Mako didn’t buoy her spirit like Korra or lift her mood like Bolin, his steady energy and seriousness were a welcome source of uncomplicated calm. She enjoyed her time in the garage with him.

He came to stand beside her, studying the array of small components awaiting installation on the workbench, wiping his hands on a grease rag.

“How’d you find these?” He asked, gesturing to the parts with his prominent and well-made chin.

“We usually have them in our warehouses or fabricate on-site, but for rarer things like this, there’s a network of vintage collectors and dealership owners I’ve dealt with for my father’s personal collection. There's one a few hours from here. That was him at the desk.”

“He was…” The pause was easy to interpret. The man was a total eccentric. She’d spoken to him over the phone before and that was the only reason she expected his flamboyance. “An interesting guy.”

“A lot of the collectors I’ve met are. His family has had a Sato dealership for thirty years. One of the first in the country.” Slipping off her gloves, she took her half-failed ponytail down, tying it right back up in what she hoped would be a more resilient gathering.

“I didn’t know you were ordering any of this.” Looking and sounding troubled, his eyebrows crowded together as his golden-brown eyes traced over the newly arrived items. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, but Asami…” He glanced at her apologetically, wrung his hand on the back of his neck. “I don’t think I can afford these.”

 _Ah._ She gave him her best disarming smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that.” When he seemed ready to argue, she pressed. “I wouldn’t order parts without asking and then tell someone to pay for them, Mako. Besides, I couldn’t leave the car like this.” Gazing admiringly over at the nearly reassembled car, she crossed her arms and leaned on the worktable. “She needs to be driven.”

His nod toward the floor was full of embarrassed gratitude, so she resolved to say nothing more on it. “I saw Bo working with you yesterday afternoon. How’d that go?”

“Good!” Bolin had been a most enthusiastic assistant. Overeager to help, he was also surprisingly hesitant to try for himself. She basically had to switch places with him, directing rather than touching the car just so he would stop deferring to her. The man knew more than he let on but didn’t trust himself. “He picked it up well. He actually did most of the repairs himself. I just guided.”

Mako leaned next to her at a respectful distance and crossed his arms, the sleeves of his coveralls bunched to his elbows. She could guess what Korra must’ve once seen in him…a tall, handsome man who seemed decent at heart, hard-working, and loved his brother. Off-handedly she wondered if Korra would think similar things about Iroh if the two ever met. She couldn’t fathom how that would occur or why and it was an utterly bizarre musing. Asami could not seem to rein in her thoughts today. They were parading around wherever they pleased.

“He’s never asked me to show him anything,” Mako remarked with something that sounded almost like bitterness. Was he sore over it? Difficult to tell.

“Sometimes it’s less pressure with a stranger.” Watching the man, his posture, and expression, she decided it was much more likely hurt. “You’re his big brother.” 

“Yeah, but you’re a Sato.” He smirked at her, bending to nudge her congenially with an elbow. “He fanboyed over you, remember?”

She did recall that. “I think he just wants to be helpful, and he thinks driving the tow, and running the desk is what you need. That’s probably all it is.”

“He’s right. I don’t know how I’d run this place without him.” There was thoughtfulness in his voice, but his lips were a frown. “He’s uh…better with people.”

“You could get a bell.”

He was skeptical. “Why?”

“If you want to teach him, you could get one of those desk bells, and then if someone comes in, they can ring it and he comes out.” She lifted an eyebrow, tilting her head. “It’s a classic strategy.”

He laughed quietly, sheepish. “I feel kinda dumb for not thinking of that.”

“Simple solutions are the hardest to see. At least in my experience.” Shrugging Asami scanned over the parts. “Do you need any direction on these or are you okay?”

“No. This part I’m good with. I just could never figure out what was wrong with it.” Looking at her and then the red car which would likely be running for the first time in years tomorrow, he gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Asami. You didn’t have to spend all this time fixing my dad’s car. I know you liked working on it, but you still didn’t have to. It’ll mean a lot to have it running again.”

She squeezed his forearm lightly, uncomfortably familiar with the notion of automobiles as family mementos. “Happy I could help.”

“You know, my dad built this shop himself. It was his dream.” His eyes followed the metal and concrete surrounding them.

“That’s very very relatable.”

“Little smaller than Future Industries though.” And they shared an amused, but small smile.

“Hey. What’s all this?” Korra asked, strolling through the backdoor with Bolin, both armed with two cups apiece. The drinks were quickly distributed and gratefully received. 

“Parts for our dad’s car.” Was Mako’s brief reply as he sipped. “And the transmission for Asami’s SUV came earlier.”

“Is this it?” Bolin asked, peering into the box with curiosity widening his eyes. 

“Yup. I should have it in by tomorrow.” Without conscious decision, her eyes lifted and locked on Korra’s subconsciously seeking her reaction to the news. There was one, but it was difficult to understand…closer to confusion than anything else. 

“That’s good, right?! I mean, you get to go home finally!!” Stretching his arms out in celebration, Bolin shot her a wide smile before his whole body seemed to deflate like a balloon. “Oh, but that kinda sucks for us though!! We’re gonna miss you.” Then he perked back up in an instant. “Hey! Whaddya say all of us go out on the town tonight?”

“Wu.” Mako interrupted tiredly. “It’s tournament night, bro.”

“Oh right. The bowling team. Aw, man!” His shoulders slumped.

“That’s sweet of you, but don’t worry about it.” She said softly, touched that he would even think of assembling a sendoff for her. 

“Breakfast tomorrow at the diner!! All of us!” He announced, staring down Korra and then Mako. Both nodded their approval. He smacked his hands together, before slinging an arm around Korra and dragging her into his shoulder. Peering up suspiciously, the woman sipped from her hot cup, tea string, and label hanging. “You need to do something fun with Asami tonight, Korr. You’re her last hope!”

Laughing, the woman her head on his shoulder, and patted his forearm. “Sure. I’ll do my best.”

Blue eyes and a hopeful smile were thrown her way, and she felt the softening in her face immediately. _28%_ popped into her head, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at herself.

The four of them hung around for a bit, poking fun at each other and cleaning up, while Bolin chattered away about some bowling tournament the brothers were in tonight. There was a lot of talk about some guy named Wu, the last member of their team. From the fluctuating annoyance and begrudging fondness in Mako and Korra’s expressions, Bolin’s jokes about his bucket bowling technique, and the man’s much-maligned persistence in pursuing any girl he met…she decided it was totally fine she’d not gotten to meet this Wu character.

As they all walked back toward the lodge, Korra turned toward her, catching her attention. “If you don’t have any more phone calls or meetings or anything, I could take you into town tonight. We could just kick around a bar or whatever. Could be that fun I’m supposed to find for you.” Eyebrows bounced, but beneath that, a crack in Korra’s projected confidence was faintly visible.

“I’d like that.” Climbing the stairs in tandem, a tingly sort of anticipation built with each step she took. A girlish excitement fluttered in her stomach, which was silly, but a question bubbled up as well. “Can I see your bakery too?”

“Yeah, if you want. It’s more of a kitchen with a little front part.” Korra hastily explained, as though she were preemptively excusing it.

“I’m sure it’s nice.”

Shrugging, the woman hauled open the heavy wood door, halting in the entryway. “Everyone’s gonna head back to their own places tonight. I was gonna head back to mine with Naga.”

Asami hid her disappointment. “You must miss your own bed.”

Eyes ran over her briefly, but slow enough for her to notice before they rose to her own, piquing her curiosity. “Staying here’s definitely had some perks.”

Asami smirked, her gaze falling to Korra’s lips before she caught them. They would definitely be kissing tonight. Even if she had to sneak them into some dark corner of wherever they were going, it would happen. Hopefully, multiple times. 

“Stay over.” The offer pleasantly surprised her. Though in retrospect there was reason to anticipate it, her shock must’ve shown. “If you want to. If you don’t, I’ll drive you back. No problem.”

“No, I do want to.” She corrected quickly, but she was too interested in this new development to truly be embarrassed. 

They’d agreed to take off together in an hour, which was not really an adequate allotment of time for Asami but was doing her best to adhere. As she showered, scrubbing the oil and grease from beneath her fingernails, she tried not to analyze the nature of their outing. It was date-like, maybe was a date, but it was a date constrained by unrepeatability. A date capping off a three-night stand? A date capping off a two-night stand plus an additional night of non-sexual intimacy? A pseudo-date with a girl she was perhaps 28% in love with? None of those was a thing. Labels for this were impossible. Sighing at herself, she succumbed to nagging neuroses and hopped out of the still-running shower butt-naked to grab the razor she convinced herself there was no need to use, before jumping back in.

She needed to figure out what to wear.

Multitasking was incorporated where possible, her combing in product while shuffling on a towel to mop up puddled footprints. There was little time to think as she dried her hair, put a bit more effort and drama in her makeup than any of the previous nights, and donned an outfit a step above those she’d worn the previous two. A change of clothes and a smaller purse for tonight were tossed into the largest of the three purses she’d packed. But she turned on booted foot, not a second after she left the room and returned to her luggage. Already ten minutes late, she dug through her bag, placing the two perfume bottles she brought side-by-side. The decision was fairly easy…the spicier of the two…wood undertones. The complex scent gained just a hint of sweetness when warmed by her skin. Done.

She felt like herself, more confident, armored.

Another attempt was made to leave, which was thwarted by a desire for the bangles she sometimes wore.

And then the flyaway tamer because her hair was a little drier than she’d like.

…and her lipstick for touchups.

Right, mascara.

Damn it. Phone. 

When she walked into the great room another fifteen minutes later sure there was still something she forgot, Korra was sitting on the floor with Naga. Hunched over, the woman was scratching her dog’s belly, a giant white leg flailing happily in the air. Those wide eyes and the slow-breaking smile when Asami stepped across the threshold, that adorably awkward compliment which followed…they bolstered her confidence and evaporated any concern for the extra time she needed. They drove away from the lodge with the sunset pinking the sky, Korra amenable to letting Asami drive and Naga’s tail thumping the backseat nearly the entire ride.

At the woman’s direction, she eventually pulled into a multi-family and they headed up to Korra’s second-floor apartment. It was a cozy one-bedroom, unexpectedly neat and uncluttered. She was invited to wait on the couch while Korra changed and readied herself. Quietly she let her eyes roam the room, as Naga climbed on the couch beside her, yawning loudly before promptly falling asleep.

Crumpled beside the sleeping animal was a blanket in alternating blues that reminded her of the ocean and night sky, with tessellated triangular patterning reminiscent of Korra’s tattoo. Asami studied a single shelf on the wall, home to several little wooden animal statues that looked hand-carved and hand-painted. They stood proudly beside a round woven basket, top askew. Mounted behind it was another live wood slab, similar in style to the one in the lodge. Instead of a polar bear, there was a topographic relief of Alaska. From conversations with Senna over breakfast, Asami had learned Korra spent the youngest years of her life in a very small town in that remote state. It was where her parents were flying back to, where Tenzin’s sister was returning to eventually as well, where Tenzin’s mother still lived…that they all came from the same tribe in which Tonraq held a position of prominence.

Below the map was an incongruous spectacle, the spine of several neon or pastel recipe books each to do with baking. They lay stacked on a narrow standing cabinet. It was those little bits of personality scattered about the room that begged her attention. 

When Korra emerged from the bedroom, it was in a quarter of the time it had taken for Asami to ready herself. She noticed immediately that Korra was wearing makeup. Unlike hers, it was not chosen as a statement, but rather a subtle enhancement…a highlighting of lips and eyes. It echoed the way Korra’s clothes, though not revealing or ostentatious, flattered and suited.

Gaze set on Korra, the last stubborn bits of her guard dropped, slipping from her fingers.

If this beautiful woman, so new to her story, serendipitously wanted to steal a few days of her life and claim them, then so be it. There didn’t need to be so much concern over them crafting an enjoyable though evanescent reality together. Short-lived things could be lovely and whole…and maybe that guilt she felt was also because she was so focused on the ending. Korra was taking her out tonight, had shared secrets and her body both, had filled up her lonely life. No more analysis was needed or appropriate. This was to be appreciated...that was what she wanted out of tonight. 

And after leaving food for the dog, they departed together on foot, ambling through the quiet streets of a typical-looking small town and chatting lightly. A gentle wind stirred, biting her cheeks, and pulling dusty snow in swirls over the asphalt. Watching them and then her companion, Asami questioned how Korra was surviving in just that navy pullover she was wearing. It was definitely not an actual coat. Drawing her own collar tight to her neck, she gazed up at the netting strung from one building to the other and hanging over the main road. Lights woven through the webbing formed a bell in shining gold and holly leaves in vibrant green, a vinyl banner with _‘Season’s Greetings’_ below it. 

An older couple wrapped to their chins in puffy jackets and handknit scarves toddled by, smiling brightly at Korra and waving. Regular customers of the bakery she assumed. Soon they slowed and stopped outside a bar, voices and muted music carrying through the door already. It was a lively little place, a neon-lit jukebox in the corner, hardwood and brick everywhere, country playing out of hidden speakers.

At the bar, she was surprised to see Bolin’s girlfriend talking rather seriously to the woman she saw Tenzin’s sister walking with yesterday morning, the distinct scars instantly recognizable. What did Kya say her name was? Lin, she thought?

“Oh, hey Opal!” Korra said with a note of caution, though Asami could not guess why. They seemed friendly at the Christmas sweater party.

None of that same caution was detectable in Opal’s reply, though the girl seemed tired or drawn out. “Hi, Korra! Hi Asami!”

She waved. “Nice to see you again!”

“No luck with the car yet?” She was asked sympathetically.

“The part came in this afternoon.” 

“I didn’t think you were working today,” Korra commented as Opal grabbed some glasses from the dishwasher and slid them into place. 

“Had a call out.”

Canting forward and resting palms on the bar, Korra smiled at the older woman who was nursing a mug of what she guessed was coffee. “Hey, Chief.”

“Hey, kid.” The woman answered with the same gruffness she greeted Asami with yesterday. And was this the cupcake-making police chief? The black bomber and honorific used would suggest so, improbable as it seemed at first glance. “Hey again.” The woman murmured toward her.

“Hi.”

Korra stared at them both. “You two met?”

“Kya introduced me the other morning. I ran into the two of them walking to the garage.” Something about that clearly got Korra’s attention. Was it unusual for the two women to be around one another? There was no way for her to know.

Opal slid a freshly opened light beer in front of Korra, needing no direction as to the woman’s order. Taking the bottle, Korra was purposeful in meeting Opal’s gaze, silent communication…a shake of Opal’s head, a quirk of Korra’s lips, Lin’s watchful stare locked on the two of them. Asami took in all of it, curious but not wanting to pry.

Clearing her throat, Opal smiled invitingly at her. “You were drinking whiskey the other night, Asami. right?”

“I was, but I have a beer instead. I’ll take one of those, please.” Perhaps it was the fog on the surface of the bottle in Korra’s grip, but a cold beer was suddenly tempting. 

“Sure thing.”

“The burgers here are amazing if you’re in the mood for that.” Korra sat sideways on the barstool and folded her hands in her lap, awaiting Asami’s reply. 

It would be a nice accompaniment to her beer and there had been no point in trying to eat carefully the past few days, but she was not particularly hungry tonight. “Wanna split one?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“I’ll toss it.” The woman at the bar chimed in.

“Hey…um,” Opal looked up from the cooler she was reaching into, sharp eyes fixed on Korra expectantly. “Anyone at the table tonight?”

Asami observed curiously as the bartender’s head tilted, a small smile playing on her lips as she stood, beer in hand. “Nope. All yours. Text me if you want another drink. I’ll text you when the burger comes out.” And then the girl walked over her bottle, winking before returning to her conversation with Lin.

Interesting. “Come on.” Korra’s hand closed around hers as they made their way back toward a hall and past the restrooms. 

“Where are we going?”

“There have this little table set up toward the back, but you have to request it. The regulars know about it and use it for special nights because it’s more private,” As they turned the corner, there was a well-upholstered banquette and table. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelf behind it decorated with various objects, most of which seemed to be ranch-related or lanterns. “Hold on.”

Korra hopped up on a chair, pulling the lanterns off the shelf one at a time, turning them on, and plugging in a line of Edison bulbs strung from the ceiling. Grays and blacks turned varying shades of brown and orange and gold as the LED candles flickered, leaving an impression of warmth. 

“There.” Korra slipped into the booth, propping her feet up on the vacant chair across from the bench and looking mighty accomplished. 

Asami slid in beside her, crossing her legs at the thigh. “Pretty.”

“Right? The kitchen cooks special dishes for couples here and sometimes they end up calling me up to make a dessert or cake or something.” Curious, she watched Korra’s hands fold around the bottle of beer, the tapping fingers. Was the other woman nervous? “There’s not really a big fancy place out here, but people think this is kinda romantic.”

Taking a sip of her beer, she gazed at Korra meaningfully. “It _is_ romantic.”

The woman turned shy. “Maybe a little. Hey,” The word was followed by a short tap of fingernails on the wood tabletop. “Wanna hear something embarrassing?”

Asami smiled to herself at the too obvious change of subject. “Desperately.”

“I googled you yesterday after dinner.” The admission drew a light blush from her companion.

And that was very unexpected and a little unnerving. “Why?”

“’Cause everyone seemed to think that I should’ve heard of you before or something,” Korra explained her palms extending, open and expressive before they fell to the tabletop. “And now I kinda feel like they were right.”

Asami regarded the other woman for a moment, searching for a response. “If you’re not into cars or the Pacific Northwest tech scene, there would be no reason to.”

“I think you’re deflecting because you know Bo was right.” Korra countered, the challenge dancing in blue eyes augmented by the flickering reflection of moving lights. “You’re a big deal, Asami Sato.”

With a combination of embarrassment and amusement, she took a long sip from her bottle. “Probably to some. Does it make you nervous?”

“What, just ‘cause you’re a classy, elegant, wildly successful, rich girl? Please.” The woman kidded, smiling wryly but the joviality did not reach her eyes. 

“Does it, Korra?” She pressed. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

“Not nervous, but I feel like an idiot for not knowing who you were.” It seemed to be the truth. “So, do you like the whole running a company deal?”

Asami wasn’t totally certain that words such as ‘like’ or ‘dislike’ were applicable to how she felt about heading Future Industries. “I like being able to influence the direction of the company.” Nonetheless, there were things she was certain of. “But working on the cars these past few days, I forget sometimes how much I miss the hands-on aspects.”

Shuffling into the booth and a smidge closer, Korra tucked her chin into the recesses of her navy pullover, the white fur lining partially obscuring those sculpted lips as they curved. “Gonna up and sell the whole thing? Start up a garage back in Seattle?”

That was an impossible idea. “My father would turn over in his grave. He built that company on a single personal loan in his twenties. When he started, it was small enough he could really be involved in the day-to-day. Future Industries is much larger now. I don’t have the option to get my hands in anything much beyond design. My priorities have to be very high-level.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

“You get used to it. The jet is a nice perk.”

Korra was taken aback. “Is that a joke or do you really have a jet?”

“The company has a jet.”

“But if you own the company, and the company owns the jet, isn’t the jet yours?”

As she had when Korra sang to her on their first night together, she sat sideways in the booth and perched her arm atop it, building a rest for her chin on her fist. “I suppose if we’re applying the commutative property to ownership principles, then you could argue that anything the company owns is mine.”

Still visibly unseated by the concept, Korra shook her head. “Why are you still trapped in this town if you mostly own a jet?!”

“I was supposed to be on vacation anyways.” It was the truth.

“Man, if I had a jet, I’d use it all the time. Fuel it up on the company’s dime and be on some tropical beach every other weekend.”

Asami lifted her eyebrow. “And how would you justify your use of company funds for island getaways?”

“My skin needs a little sun.”

That seemed a far more plausible excuse where she was concerned…or maybe not. Asami only had two shades, white and red and she’d never seen summer Korra. Though she’d like to… “I can’t remember the last time I went to the beach actually.”

Lips pressed to the tip of the bottle, Korra peered over at her. “Where do you usually go for vacation?”

She sighed, wishing she had an interesting answer, some exotic port of call she regularly shot off to, but the reality was much less interesting. “I don’t really. This was the first in two years and it was just to spend time with my ex’s family.” Much much less interesting. “Sounds depressing out loud, doesn’t it?”

“Sounds like you work too hard, Asami.” Shaking her head, Korra reached down to take her buzzing phone from the bench. “Food’s done. I’ll be right back.”

As she waited some instinct took hold, began whispering. Her own phone was soon in her grasp. Korra had googled her. Without thought she typed the other woman’s name, questioning if it would be those climbing routes or some social media account or nothing at all. Instead of any of those, result after result referenced a tragic accident, a rockfall, deaths…Korra hailed as a hero for her efforts with another climber, the accompanying picture of her unsmiling, battered, and in a wheelchair. Shaken she turned the screen off. The phone was placed face down and shoved away, just as the burger slid between onto the table with water and more beer. And she would’ve helped if she realized there was so much to carry…

“So,” Korra began, hopping back into the booth and cutting their food in two portions, while Asami swallowed her overwhelming sense of intrusion. “We need to start planning you a real vacation that doesn’t involve exes or being stuck in some nothing town with a bunch of crazies.”

“Honestly? It’s been wonderful meeting all of you. I really do mean that.” She admitted, thankful for the distraction. “The holidays aren’t my favorite, but I haven’t felt ‘stuck’ here. Not in the way I think you mean at least.” Feeling on the outside or as though she was imposing; those were not the same as chomping at the bit to leave this place and these people.

“That makes one of us.” Scoffing, Korra snagged a fry and bit it in two.

The answer caught her off-guard. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I might say something stupid again.”

She couldn’t help but smile despite the serious twist in conversation. “Good. I’ve missed that.”

Rolling her eyes, Korra continued. “I was thinking this morning…you know how when you’re a kid, you think you’ll get braver when you grow up?” Reaching for a fry, Asami made herself a small pool of ketchup while she nodded and dipped. “I feel like the opposite happened to me.”

“Is that what’s making you feel stuck?” She asked before taking a delicate bite. Decent fries, she would freely admit. 

“Kuvira said something to me the other day…that I don’t try for things anymore, that I’m checked out or half-in my life.”

It was difficult to discern how that might’ve come up between them unless they were fighting, but that was not her business really. “Do you think that’s true?”

“I think it might be, yeah. It still sucks to hear.” She could imagine. “I don’t wanna feel like that and I definitely don’t want people to feel like that about me.”

There was little she could say on a more general level but letting that stand unaddressed felt wrong. “I know I haven’t known you long and I sort of said this before, but I haven’t ever felt like you’re checked out when we’ve spent time together.”

Korra looked as though she was about to respond but instead sent her a half-smile. They picked at their dinner leisurely, their eating slowed by talk and subtle touches. It was the type of touch used outwardly to emphasize a point but really meant to convey interest, as an outlet for desired closeness. They fell into idle chit-chat about the progress with her car, a peculiar strategy the woman employed in Monopoly which sounded very much like cheating, and Asami’s four-year debate with herself over whether or not to get a cat. Their discussion rounded on a very surface mention of trouble within Kuvira and Opal’s household, how deeply Korra should involve herself the primary concern.

“I used to think it was my place to solve everyone’s problems. But I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing with my own life.” Tossing hands up in the air, Korra’s eyes fixed on the empty space across from them, blinking against gathering thoughts. “But then it’s like…is it still being ‘checked out’ if I _don’t_ get involved? It feels like no decision I make is gonna be right.”

“It sounds like you just want to help and, in your defense, if they’re talking to you about it, aren’t they technically involving you already?” Asami answered with a frown.

“Yeah, maybe. I just…it's more than that.” With a deep sigh, Korra slouched further down into the booth, crossing arms over her chest. The girl didn’t really seem upset, just frustrated. “I don’t know. I wanna figure out how to check back in, but I feel like I can’t hang on to it for very long. Like I keep fading out or something. And I think I should be doing more with my life.”

“More than the bakery, you mean? Do you not like it?"

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that people like what I bake. I’m so much better at it than I was before, but I’m not even really selling my own recipes. It’s dime a dozen stuff.” It was such a dismissive framing.

“Were those lavender things you made me your recipe?” Asami questioned gently. 

“Sort of. Bouchons are a thing, but they’re usually chocolate. I was thinking what if it was more like a butter cake? And then I was baking these earl gray shortbreads in my apartment kitchen one night when I couldn’t sleep and I had this lavender earl gray tea Pema gave me. So, I was like what if I…” Korra seemed to suddenly realize how far down this path they’d gone. “God, I’m rambling.”

Smiling, she drew her knees up, letting them rest on the plush bench. “You are and it’s adorable, but why don’t you sell them? They’re delicious.”

“Lin said the same thing. I don’t know.” Quirking her lips, Korra picked at the label on her bottle. “I feel like they won’t sell. All of this feels so…small too, like it doesn’t make any difference in the grand scheme of things. I _should_ be trying to make a difference. I should want to. At least when I was climbing, I did something new, even if it was just new for a woman. An original recipe is hardly groundbreaking, right?”

“I’m not sure it really makes sense to equate the two. Unless you’re baking competitively somehow, the same rush and high of a sport won’t be there. But for what it’s worth, being the first woman to do those climbs or starting your own business…those are both inspiring from my perspective.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel very inspiring,” Korra murmured, her brows drawn together before that crooked grin came back. “Wanna talk about inspiring, look at you! You’re a multi-millionaire CEO of an entire company. I could never do that. I’d fall flat on my ass, Asami!!”

“The money and company were mostly there already, and I’ve fallen flat on my ass a bunch before too. I’ve just been fortunate enough to find ways out of it and to have good people around me for advice.”

“Sure. But you’re smart and driven and totally capable too! That’s the real reason it works. There are idiots everywhere who could run a business into the ground even if they were set up to start.”

“You know…there are moments when I think about stepping down as the CEO.” And that was something she’d only ever said aloud once when one of the projects that hadn’t received enough attention in the wake of her father’s removal slipped through the cracks. They’d lost millions on a flawed engine design that somehow went to production. She’d only admitted her resultant reservations about herself to Iroh, only once, and not in so many words.

“Really?!”

“Yes.” What began as self-doubt planted a seed. Now it was a recurring fantasy for her when stress piled or when she missed a wrench in her hands. “I don’t want this to sound like I’m bragging, but I’m very young to be where I am. It wasn’t the original plan. I was supposed to be mentored by my father until he retired. I think a lot about keeping the majority shares…moving exclusively to the automotive division or R & D and letting the board take over.”

“Why don’t you?”

“It’s hard to explain. Some days it’s all I can think about and others it seems so selfish. I guess I feel a responsibility to stand in my father’s place and I do want to prove I can do it. I can’t say that our talks the past two nights and having my hands on that car haven’t got me thinking about it again though.”

“Yeah, they’ve got me thinking too,” Asami asked the question with her eyes, tilted her head hoping Korra would elaborate. “I think what shook me so badly about the accident was that I thought I found my thing…I was sure I did. Now I don’t know what it’s all supposed to mean. Was I supposed to learn something? Or did the accident happen for no reason at all and I’m just supposed to accept that?”

Smiling somewhat sadly as the search results flashed across her brain, she picked up her bottle letting her fingers run absently along the neck. “There’s got to be a middle ground in there somewhere.”

Korra tipped her head back laying it against the brick behind them and stared up at the dangling bulbs. “I’ve never been good at middle grounds.”

That was something she could appreciate. “Mm. Not my strong suit either.”

Rolling her head on the rough surface, Korra waggled her brows. “Ready for round two on the stupid stuff?”

She laughed quietly. “Sure.”

“I haven’t felt like I was where I was meant to be in a long time but being around you feels like that to me. Every time I look over at you, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Annnnnnd there you go. Some cheese in there too.”

This woman was such an incurable goof. She kind of loved it. “Luckily, I happen to like cheese with my stupid stuff.”

Korra’s smile showed her teeth this time. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m glad I met you.”

Taking the other woman’s hand in hers, she squeezed it. “I’m really glad I met you too, Korra.” 

Neither of them rushed the rest of their drink. Feeling bold, she asked Korra a few questions about Alaska, about the tribe her parents mentioned…listened to things she knew nothing about with quiet fascination. Korra spoke in brief of her early childhood, of an untamable wildness which led her parents to reluctantly arrange for summers spent in Montana…to stay with Tenzin. There was a factual recounting of Korra first meeting the brothers and years later Kuvira. Subsequent tales of mischief followed, revolving around three near arrests by that police chief. The retellings pulled laughter from them both, hers a little disbelieving. 

They left shortly after, planning to have another beer at the bar and say ‘hello’ to Opal, but the newly accumulated crowd prevented it. All they could do was wave from between a group of men, who mistook their proximity for invitation. Korra was firm enough in her refusal for the both of them, which was just as well. She had no interest in hanging around with a group of unknown men tonight, a decision further validated by the already impolite leers of the gentleman on the corner seat.

They took a slightly different way back, removed from the main streets. They passed what looked to be a school, walls of chain-link fence stretching out on their left, thin lines of snow resting upon the metal twisted diamonds. The block-like building sat far below them, beyond the large hill they stood upon, beyond the deep slope, and across a snow-covered athletic field. Confused, she followed Korra as the woman wove through a break in the chain-link.

“It’s shorter to cut across,” Korra explained while eying a tree with two saucer sleds propped against it. “Did you have one of these growing up too?”

Asami shrugged. “I’ve actually never gone sledding before if you can believe it.”

The woman’s eyes were huge with shock. “Wait…never?!?”

“I’ve been skiing a bunch of times.” She answered, finding it hard to believe it could be that shocking. Everyone had little things they’d never done.

“Oh, we’re doing this!!” And Korra was already yanking to pull the green and orange plastic sleds from their icy binding. 

Raising an eyebrow when the flimsy circles popped free, she was not the least bit tempted. “So, you’re proposing we steal these sleds from whatever unsuspected kid left them here?”

“Steal?!” Feigning horror, Korra tossed the sleds to the ground on the flattened area surrounding them. “No way. We’re borrowing them. We’ll put them back after.”

Tapping the sun-faded plastic with her booted foot, Asami pressed it down and tested the glide. Even with light pressure, the too-flexible material warped as it slid triggering additional caution. “What if we break them? Doesn’t look like they have the structural capacity to support an adult.”

Waving a dismissive hand, the other woman grinned at her. “Alright, engineer girl. Don’t worry so much! If they break, I’ll run out tomorrow morning and buy new ones! These are like ten bucks at any drug store.”

“That does nothing for my concerns about their integrity.”

“We could go ‘round the back of those warehouses over there! I bet we could find a cardboard box or a tarp or something and use that instead.”

That these sleds were the equivalent of a cardboard box or tarp to Korra made her waver further still. They looked like something invented to utilize excess material, rather than anything with thought behind it.

Asami’s skepticism transmuted to outright refusal. “That’s a hard ‘no’ for several reasons.”

“Kinda sounds like you’re chickening out.” That face was insufferably smug for someone trying to convince her to slide down an icy deathtrap of a hill on either a discarded tarp or an overgrown poker chip. 

“There would have to be a plan first, in order for me to chicken out.” She debated.

“Uh, there is! Steal the sleds, go down the hill, put ‘em back. Bam! Plan!” Technically there was a difference between an ill-conceived plan and no plan at all, but still…

“Is there some way to steer these?” Scanning the sleds, she hoped against hope that the canvas handles poorly attached to the edges were not the only means. “Or a brake?”

“No on the steering. Brakes are your feet.” _Well, then._

“We’re clear on how terrible an idea this is?”

“Crystal.”

“And we’re also unconcerned about the sporadic ice coat and the steepness of this hill?” Asami tried, attempting to inject some logic-based counterarguments into this because she already knew there was no way she was going to outright refuse. Not when her bravery had been questioned.

“There’s a coat of fresh snow from last night and you wanna go fast, don’t you? I thought you raced cars? I mean…I guess we could find you a bunny slope or something. There’s a school down there. Maybe a speedbump to practice on? Or I could go grab Naga and hitch you up till you’re used to…”

Enough was enough. “Oh, shut up. How do you do this?”

“Butt in the middle, lean back a little with your legs up, and hang on to the handles on the side,” Korra directed, grabbing the green sled and holding it against her back by the handles like a turtle shell.

“You go first, but if you die tragically on the way down, I’m not following.” It seemed more than fair as a stipulation. 

Laughing loud and deep, Korra grinned and trudged a few feet out, tossing the sled down. “Fine, but you gotta call me an ambulance. No just leaving my body to the elements.”

The woman did not wait for a response but shocked her by hopping unceremoniously onto the unstable-looking saucer and shoving off with both feet. With a crunchy swish, the tiny sled rocketed down the slick hill, as Asami reluctantly plucked the orange disk from the ground, distrustfully watching Korra shoot down the rise of earth. Spinning around at the foot of it, the woman’s now tiny form stood. Apparently, Korra was very much alive and shouting goading mock-encouragements at her.

With a deep sigh, she readied herself, pushing off in the same way and from the same spot Korra had.

The sled gained surprising speed as it careened down the hill, every fell and dip of the ground rumbling the thin plastic beneath her. It was fun, evoked a childish sense of exhilaration despite the obvious shortcomings of the simple racer. Faster than expected and still accelerating on patches of ice acting as mini boosters, the ride was short and bumpy. But near the finish, a small upwelling altered her course, and she was suddenly headed directly at Korra. It was pure reaction, her kicking her feet into the snow to swerve and divert. Korra, however, had a different instinct, had moved to reach for the canvas handle. The woman latched on just as she pushed away, was jerked down immediately. Their combined weight and different momentums were simply too much for the sled. The plastic shot from beneath her and she landed on her back with a grunt, the base of Korra’s skull knocking the wind from her as it smacked into her stomach.

Her laughter came up and swallowed her whine of an ‘ow’. A light ache announced itself in her chest and tailbone while she alternated coughs and chuckles. 

“Shit, are you okay?” The woman murmured after a minute, rolling her head to look up at Asami and reaching out. 

It was then she noticed the open scrapes on Korra’s knuckles. “Are _you_? You’re bleeding.” She took Korra’s fingers in her hand, inspecting the raw or skinned bits.

The woman snorted, dabbing at the cuts unconcernedly. “Guess I should’ve just let you stop yourself.”

“I appreciate that you tried to catch me.” She teased before exhaling. Resting back against the hard snow, the vast blackness above struck her upon opening her eyes. The sporadic clouds from earlier were all but gone and left was a mesmerizing blanket of twinkling stars. “The sky out here is incredible.”

“It’s even brighter where I grew up. You can see the milky way and the aurora sometimes.” Korra confessed, her voice softened by happy recollection.

“That must be so beautiful.”

“Guess it’s the only bonus of growing up in the smallest town ever.” They both lay there in silence for a few minutes staring up into the night. The weight of Korra’s head on her coat-covered stomach, the intensity of that starlight, and the cold emanating from wind-hardened snow, she let them saturate her senses.

Helping each other up was done with an exchange of smiles, Korra’s more sheepish and hers slightly accusatory. They made their way back up the hill to return the sleds, residual groans, and giggles escaping in equal measure. Korra insisted she’d make it up to her. The second time it was said, Asami was sure to point out how unnecessary it was…that she enjoyed her first experience with sledding despite the tumble. The pleasure of it was more to do with Korra’s presence than the activity itself.

It was a surprise when they arrived not at the apartment, but the building directly across the street. It turned out to be Korra’s bakery.

The very first thing she did when she shed her coat was buck the offer for a tour and lead a puzzled Korra to the sink. Gently, she cleansed slightly bloodied knuckles, dabbing them carefully as she held Korra’s fingers in hers. Blue eyes were fixed on hers the entire time until she let their hands slip away. Her eyebrows shot to her forehead when Korra gingerly knelt in front of her after, holding her gaze still. Asami felt her neck fall automatically, hairs on end as she stared down at the woman’s face where it hovered near her hips.

What in the world…

Bending to fish a box out from the cabinet, Korra shook it at her like a rattle. “There’s band-aids under the sink.”

Her less than innocent thoughts must’ve been written in her expression or obvious from her pink cheeks because Korra’s head cocked. Then confusion turned to realization. A blush raced across the bridge of the other woman’s nose.

“Did you think I was just gonna...” Two of her fingers were hastily pushed against Korra’s lips, silencing her.

A puff of air tickled her fingertips as the other woman chuckled against them. Asami watched those lips curl and tighten beneath her fingers with a vague sense of dread as Korra grinned. “You did, didn’t y...”

“Korra,” Her heart thumped clumsily, pounding against her chest wall as she tripped over the name.

But a moment later, she found her footing and was able to force out a bit of composure, arch a brow as her fingers fell away. The laughter in those eyes dissipated, replaced with interest, and then resolve. Korra didn’t wait to be drawn into the kiss Asami wanted to give her. Instead, hands slid beneath her jaw, pulling Asami down to her. Their lips pressed and dragged; bodies close enough for radiant heat. Korra slowed and stretched their kisses, while she deepened them. It was making her head feel so heavy and from the noise the other woman just made against her mouth, Korra didn’t seem to be faring much better. They kissed until both of them were breathless.

“Asami,” The woman murmured to her as they parted, and she swallowed waiting for what if anything would follow. “I’m gonna bake you a cookie.”

“…what?” The whispered question was broken and hoarse with confusion, gravel collecting in her throat.

Moving away, Korra took a deep breath, shaking off the haze. Throwing two band-aids over her skinned third and fourth knuckle, the woman then threw her a command. “Have a seat.”

Those lips were noticeably darker and all the more tempting for it, but she obeyed. Asami watched, a little dazed still as the other woman shed her pullover and got to work. Beneath was a sleeveless light blue shirt, a frame-hugging mock turtleneck tucked into her dark jeans. And those arms in a sleeveless shirt…goodness, they were an entire situation. This incredibly strong woman, who had kissed her silly moments before and taken her sledding, was now in an apron and slicing a pair of perfect rounds from a chilled log of cookie dough.

Fuzzy thoughts returned to love and percentages. Any real focus was difficult to maintain with the scent wafting from the oven intensifying, but one thought rang clear…more than 28%. Maybe significantly more.

Asami found herself resting a chin on her hand, elbow on the countertop, etching into her mind the image of Korra in that apron, biceps subtly flexing, making her a fresh chocolate chip cookie. And that mixture of dark and milk chocolate, when the cookie was done and cooled, the touch of sea salt; it was a far more delicious context for bittersweetness than her considerations from a day ago. 


End file.
